I was recently working with a client who'd built their business to $100k in annual revenue—a major milestone they'd been pursuing. But when we got on our call, they weren't celebrating. Instead, they were fixated on the next goal: $200k ARR.
"I thought hitting six figures would feel so good," they admitted. "But then it's like we hit $200k just weeks later and I just think 'it doesn't matter because we're not profitable yet.' And I every time I see one of our competitors who got backed by a tier 1 VC, I feel bad about myself."
This story happens all the time.
Earlier this year I consulted with another entrepreneur who had just sold half their stake in their company for an eight-figure exit. You'd think they'd be on top of the world, but mostly they were wrestling with an existential crisis:
"I achieved everything I thought I wanted, but I have no idea what's next. Right now I live alone in a city I don't even like that much without many friends."
Numerous studies have shown that Olympic athletes often suffer from the "Post-Olympic Blues" after reaching the pinnacle of their sport and suffer emotional crashes after post-Games press tour fades.
This is the curse of the hungry ghost—beings found in Buddhist, Taoist, and Hindu traditions with enormous appetites but tiny mouths, forever consuming but never satisfied.
In our achievement-obsessed culture, many of us can fall into the trap of hungry ghosthood without realizing it, constantly chasing the next milestone while never learning to appreciate what we've already accomplished.
The Arrival Fallacy: Why Future-Focused Thinking Fails
There are a number of psychological factors at play here. The one most of us are familiar with is the hedonic treadmill, meaning we get used to whatever level of pleasure or success we've achieved and need more to feel the same sense of satisfaction.
But there's also the arrival fallacy—the belief that reaching a specific goal will fundamentally change how we feel about our lives. Many ambitious outliers work like mad to reach a major professional milestone like starting a company, raising money, getting a promotion, shipping their project.
But after achieving it, they discover that the stress of daily life is still there, that others are only somewhat impressed, and that their baseline happiness is largely unchanged. Meanwhile, often this pursuit of achievement comes at a cost to many of the other dimensions—sleep, diet, exercise, friends, relationships, home life—all of which are crucial to overall well-being.
It's no surprise that the arrival fallacy was coined by a Harvard psychologist—Tal Ben-Shahar—because prestigious institutions like Harvard are often the target of achievement-focused striving.
Growing up, I knew countless Chinese parents who were solely dedicated to getting their kids into top schools, as if acceptance to Harvard or Stanford was going to solve everything. But if that kid hasn't developed emotional intelligence, social skills, self-reflection, or how to advocate for themselves along the way, then they will likely struggle and suffer in their actual professional and personal lives—despite their coveted degree.
Whether climbing the academic ladder, chasing business success, or pursuing athletic glory, the hungry ghost haunts us. This relentless pursuit of the next achievement creates a vicious cycle where we sacrifice the very things that actually contribute to happiness and well-being, leaving us perpetually unsatisfied despite our external successes.
Becoming Corporeal
Given what we know about the dangers of the arrival fallacy and the hedonic treadmill, how do you adopt a new mindset to avoid this cycle of perpetual striving without true satisfaction? Here are some suggestions that have worked in my life and in the life of my clients.
Create space to savor. Learn to actually feel the satisfaction and pleasure that comes with your accomplishments—not just intellectually acknowledge them. When you close that big deal or finish that project, don't just check it off your list and move on. Sit with the feeling of pride, relief, or excitement that naturally arises. Let yourself feel genuinely good about what you've done. And when you take time off, allow yourself to fully experience the pleasure of relaxation without treating it as "unproductive time." These practices build psychological resilience, prevent burnout, and sustain your motivation for the long haul.
Practice completion rituals. A great way to savor specifically is through rituals. When you finish a project, close a deal, or reach a milestone, create a deliberate pause before moving to the next thing. This might be as simple as taking a day off, having a special dinner, or writing a reflection on what you've learned and accomplished. The goal is to create a psychological sense of completion rather than just rolling from one goal to the next.
Diversify your interests and hobbies. Develop parts of yourself that have nothing to do with your primary achievement domain. Business owners might want to take up West Coast Swing or get into sous vide cooking. Competitive athlete could get into improv comedy classes or explore making your own cosplay costumes. By pursuing a variety of activities—and having concurrent, unrelated aspirations—you're able to foster a multifaceted identity that doesn't hinge on a single area of achievement.
Make time for relationships. Achievement-oriented people often treat relationships as something to optimize later, after they've "made it." But this is a huge mistake. When you turn down enough invites to hang out for work, you eventually stop getting invited. And it will feel awkward trying to reconnect after a long absence— which ends up validating the false narrative that success matters more than connection.
The hungry ghost is never satisfied because it's always consuming but never digesting. The antidote isn't to stop pursuing meaningful goals—it's to learn how to digest and appreciate what you've already accomplished. It's to recognize that arrival isn't a destination but a practice, and that satisfaction isn't something you achieve once but something you cultivate continuously.
