You must have heard the words “Don’t fly too close to the sun.”  

The story of Icarus first caught my eye in one of my psychology classes while studying developmental stages by Henry A. Murray, particularly “The Icarus Complex.” Prior to this I was only familiar with his name from some vague online mention, but didn’t know the story behind it. 

I didn’t think I’d be retaining this Greek myth for this long in my head. Anyways, if you don’t know the story; it’s about Icarus, the son of Daedalus, a clever inventor. They were trapped and Daedalus made wings of feathers and wax for both of them to escape imprisonment on the island of Crete. Before he would allow Icarus to take off, he cautioned him not to get too close to the sun, as it could cause the wax to melt. However, when Icarus began to fly, he flew higher and higher until his wings melted and he crashed down into the sea. 

The message most people hear in this story is that it’s a warning — Don’t become too ambitious. Don’t let pride destroy you. Don’t fly too close to the sun. 

The older I get, the more I believe that people forget the most important part of the story. No one speaks about how beautiful flying must have felt for Icarus prior to the fall. 

That, somehow, changed my perception of ambition and success.  

Ambition was a good thing, always. It was always my understanding that ambition was automatically a good thing. We were taught that from the very beginning. Do you remember how it is at the beginning of each year? “Study hard. Work harder. Make something out of yourself. Keep going. Be productive.” Then, somewhere in the mix, we begin to have a secret fantasy of what it means to rest and that it means falling behind. 

I believe we’re all a little afraid of being ordinary. The feeling becomes worse with social media. There is always someone making progress, travelling somewhere, being accepted into their favorite college, building a career or being “successful” before the age of twenty-five while the rest of us are trying to keep our heads above water every single day without emotionally breaking down over three unanswered texts and one minor inconvenience. 

At some point I began to measure my self worth through productivity. I felt guilty if I didn’t do enough or get enough done for the day. I was still on a stressed state even during my sleep. I think my brain lost the ability to chill out without feeling lazy. 

Well, I assume, a lot of people do this. Being in the game forever trying to chase the next thing, the next goal, the next achievement. The next upgraded version of themselves.  

Like happiness is out there somewhere and we just have to keep running until we finally get it. Except that you never feel content, you never actually reach the “happiness stage” with this mindset. Nothing ever satisfies that hunger.  

And this is why the story of Icarus remained with me. It had all clicked on a random day for me and for the first time, I didn’t think of him as a foolish being. He started feeling human. Too familiar, too real.  

I believe my answer for why Icarus flew toward the sun is that he felt free for one time in his life. Of course, all of these are just assumptions of my imagination but I think I understand Icarus a little better now that I’ve put myself in his shoes.  

Perhaps that is what many of us are doing, as well. Attempting to feel free for once. Trying to prove ourselves, making every effort to be successful that we lose sight of the fact that we are human beings, not projects constantly waiting to be improved.  

Nobody really tells us where to stop. No one teaches us to take a break from the competition, from not being very good at resting and from taking some time off of our lives to just pause and feel. So, we just keep on flying. Higher and higher.  

At times we get drained emotionally and mentally without realising it, trying to maintain impossible expectations, both from others and from ourselves.  

I believe that burnout is the current variation of “flying too close to the sun.”  

Initially it’s thrilling. You feel motivated, productive and important. But gradually, you begin to get tired as well because you start noticing how everybody around you is tired as well. You think that you are doing average when you’re actually overworking.  

As I get older, getting into my early 20’s, the more obvious this becomes to me: Ambition, in itself, is not dangerous. It’s not risky to dream big either. The danger is when you think that your value and worth only exists in what you have accomplished. 

Perchance, Icarus’ lesson wasn’t “Don’t fly.” Perhaps it was just: “Learn how to fly without destroying yourself in the process.” 

References:  

Murray, H. A. (1938). Explorations in personality. Oxford University Press. 

Hamilton, E. (1942). Mythology: Timeless tales of gods and heroes. Little, Brown and Company.