Nothing really matters

Nothing really matters. You can take that as you like — of course parents, kids, relationships, friendships are important. Yet often we choose the priorities that don’t reflect that truth.

A great mentor of mine from my early 20s once told me: “Everyone has an addiction.”

I said, naively, “Drugs?”

He explained it could be that — but really anything: reading too much, working nonstop, chasing something endlessly. It’s all addiction in one form or another.

I share this with you because I’m probably most guilty of the pursuit of more. And I know — deep down — that it’s a road to nowhere.

So why keep going?

Sometimes I think it’s the classic urge: to see what’s ahead, behind the next turn. I learn a lot about myself and others on that road. And yet the further I race ahead, the more I find myself… alone.

We all say the important things are love, connection, health. But then we build lives that worship momentum, productivity, and performance. We want to enjoy the moment — but we structure our days in a way that makes presence nearly impossible.

Of course it’s easy to say “don’t do anything” — but then… who pays for all this? If I get sick? If a loved one does? Do we just keep racing?

I was at a concert last week in Manhattan. It poured the entire time. All I could think about was how wet I was and how much I wanted a hot shower.

After the show, a friend of a friend stopped us near a lookout over the Brooklyn Bridge.

“Hey — you’re new to New York City, right? Look at that. Look at the view.”

I paused and nodded.

They were tipsy, and unsatisfied with my weak response. “We’re not leaving until you really look at it. Breathe. A few times.”

So I did.

Still, in the back of my mind… I was thinking about how wet I was.

“Enjoy the moment.”

How many times have you heard that?

Here’s when I’ve actually felt it:

  • Reading

  • Painting

  • Writing

  • Sitting with family or friends

  • A martini

  • Listening to a song

  • Prepping for a presentation

  • A speaking engagement

Those are the moments I remember. The rest? A blur of to-dos, wins, stresses, growth, motion.

I think the point — if there is one — is this:

We often chase success, progress, or productivity under the illusion that it will lead to fulfillment — yet the moments of true presence and joy are simpler, quieter, and often overlooked.

I’m writing this at 5:18am EST, July 8, 2025 — Newark to Seattle flight.

Mark Ashley