Have you ever felt somewhat stuck despite doing things right? Yeah, me too. You’re working. You’ve got projects lined up. You’ve got a plan – maybe even a one and five-year plan. You tick the boxes: assignments delivered, outreach done, goals written down. On paper, it looks like progress. And yet, inside, it feels like nothing is moving. You’re grinding but not growing, working but not really doing.
It’s frustrating, even a little scary. You start asking questions you don’t want to ask: Am I burned out? Am I depressed? Am I just spinning my wheels? And underneath it all sits that heavy, hollow feeling that maybe you’re not really going anywhere.
Here’s the thing nobody talks about enough: this is normal. This is especially true for people who are naturally driven, ambitious, or creative.
Ambitious people are wired to seek momentum. They want to see dots connecting, doors opening, wins stacking up. They thrive on forward motion. But momentum is not the same thing as motion. You can be in motion: cranking out work, showing up for obligations, even landing contracts, and still not feel momentum. Momentum is when things feel purposeful, when one step naturally leads to the next. Without that, even real progress can feel flat, like running on a treadmill.
The irony is that driven people are more likely to fall into this trap precisely because they hold themselves to high standards. They’re always asking, What’s next? What’s bigger? What’s better? They don’t allow themselves the luxury of just “being.” So when life slows down, or when the payoff doesn’t match the grind, the emptiness sets in. Conversely, sometimes in my case, chasing a few warm leads can be almost as exhilarating as doing the actual work with the clients I have. “I might land that one and that one. This is exciting.”
If you’ve ever been stuck in a repetitive routine of the same town, the same coffee shop, the same conversations, it can intensify the feeling of stagnation. A predictable routine may be stable, but for someone wired to chase growth, it can feel suffocating. The brain starts whispering, Is this all there is? Isolation plays into this, too. Without enough connection – whether that’s spiritual, social, or simply being around new people – even the most productive day can feel hollow. Humans are wired for community, but ambitious people sometimes trick themselves into thinking they can go it alone. They can’t, not forever.
It’s tempting to read this flatness as failure. If I’m doing everything right but still feel empty, maybe I’m broken. But it’s not failure at all. It’s a natural dip that happens when effort outpaces fulfillment. Think of it like exercise. You can push your body every day, but without rest and variety, even the fittest athlete burns out. The same goes for driven people in work and life. You can’t sprint endlessly. At some point, the grind has to give way to recovery, reflection, and refueling.
You might be in this stage if you’re checking boxes but not feeling joy in the work, if you finish projects and immediately feel like they don’t matter, if you’re restless but too drained to chase new opportunities, or if you feel like you’re moving but not moving toward anything. These aren’t signs that you’re lazy or incapable. They are signs you’re human. They’re signals that something deeper, like purpose, connection, or rest, is missing. For me, that is the key: I need to feel like I am moving toward something.
So how do you move from emptiness back to momentum? The answer isn’t to work harder; that only deepens the rut. Instead, it’s about small, intentional shifts. Change the scenery – even a day working in a different environment can spark your brain back into motion. A library, a café, or a walk in a new part of town can all provide novelty and fuel. Reconnect with people: don’t just text – call a friend, join a group, or attend a meeting, spiritual or otherwise. Driven people forget that connection is as important as accomplishment. Do something small and winnable like writing a blog post, cleaning a drawer, or finishing a task you’ve been putting off. A quick visible win reminds you that action can still create momentum. Revisit your “why,” because ambition without purpose is just motion. Step back and ask: Why am I chasing these goals? What part of me lights up when I imagine them finished? And most importantly, allow rest without guilt. Sometimes what feels like emptiness is actually exhaustion. Rest isn’t wasted time; it’s recovery and it’s what lets you come back sharp.
What feels like emptiness today is often the quiet before renewal. Just because you can’t see the momentum doesn’t mean it isn’t building. Sometimes you’re laying track for a train that hasn’t arrived yet. And remember, driven people are often the hardest on themselves. They confuse a season of stillness with failure, when really it’s just part of the cycle. Nobody can feel “on” all the time. Even the best golfers in the world may shoot 65 one day and 76 the next. Nobody can sustain momentum without pauses. The dips are not just normal; they’re necessary.
If you feel like you’re not moving toward anything, take a breath. You are. You’re just in the stretch of road that feels endless before the turn comes. Motion doesn’t always feel like momentum, but that doesn’t mean you’re stuck. This emptiness isn’t proof you’re broken. It’s proof you’re alive, striving, and human. It’s the universe’s way of saying: rest now, so when the next wave of momentum comes, you’ll be ready to ride it.
John Berkovich Talks 