Do I want to have something, be something, or do something?
That question changes how I think about goals or experiments. I first heard this framing from James Clear, probably in the context of identity and habits. He talks about the difference between wanting to have a book published, wanting to be an author, and wanting to write. It sounds like a subtle distinction, but the more I sit with it, the more it changes how I think about goals, identity, and what I’m actually after.
The Author Question
Let’s start with the author example. If I say I want to have a book published, that’s one thing. I could dictate my thoughts to someone, have them ghostwrite it, and end up with a published book. Mission accomplished, right?
But if I want to be an author, that implies something different. It suggests an identity, a label I carry. But here’s the tricky part: if I wrote and published something ten years ago and haven’t written since, can I still call myself an author? Does the identity stick, or does it require ongoing action?
And then there’s the third option: I want to write. Not for the book, not for the title, but because I enjoy the act itself. I enjoy the process of slowing down my thoughts, stringing them together, and finding clarity. Some people write and never publish. Some even throw away what they wrote because they just enjoy the experience of writing.
That’s when it clicked for me. It’s not really about the book or the label. It’s about the experience.
Experience Over Identity
I know people who write purely for themselves. They’re not chasing publication or building an author platform. They write because they like how it feels to get thoughts out of their heads and onto paper (or screen). They like the sensation of clarity that comes from organizing racing thoughts into coherent sentences.
So maybe the real question isn’t “Am I a writer?” but “Do I enjoy the experience of writing?”
If I enjoy that experience—the slowing down, the focus, the act of assembling thoughts—then I write. And if I happen to publish something, I can say I’ve had the experience of publishing. But the core isn’t the possession (a book) or the identity (an author). It’s the doing, the experiencing (which makes me think about “human being” vs. “human doing”…)
Why This Matters for Goals
I’ve started asking myself this question when I’m setting goals or designing experiments: What am I actually after? Is it something I want to have? Something I want to be? Or something I want to do?
Knowing the answer changes things. It shifts my perspective and helps me understand what outcome I’m really searching for.
For instance, if I want to have something—a possession, a credential, a result—I’m focused on the endpoint. But if I want to experience something, the journey becomes the point. The experience is the outcome.
The Difference Between Having and Experiencing
I’ve noticed that I’m drawn more to experiences than possessions. I might feel nostalgic about things I used to have, and sometimes I want them again. But when I dig into that feeling, it’s not really about the thing itself. It’s about the memories. The way those memories make me feel. The experiences they represent.
Possessions create attachment. Experiences create memories. And memories, unlike possessions, can’t be lost or taken away. They’re part of me.
Here’s another thing: experiences are never the same twice. I’m not the same person from moment to moment, and circumstances are always shifting. I could travel to the same city multiple times, and each visit would be a different experience.
Experiencing Without Traveling
Let’s say someone wants to experience other countries but can’t travel. They could still have related experiences—learning to cook food from those countries, studying the language, exploring the culture through books or conversations. It’s not the same as visiting, but it’s a flavor of that experience. And maybe it inspires them to visit one day. Or maybe they discover they don’t enjoy the food but love the music. Either way, they’re experiencing something real.
Identity Labels and the Present Tense
I catch myself sometimes when I hear how others describe me—or how I describe myself. “He’s a developer.” “He’s a musician.” “He’s a creative.”
Am I those things? Or do I do some of those things? Do I experience some of those things?
Take music. I play guitar. I write songs. I’ve performed on stage. I’ve released songs. Does that make me a musician? If I wrote and performed those songs twenty years ago and haven’t touched a guitar since, can I still call myself a musician?
I think I prefer saying, “I have experienced writing songs. I have experienced performing.” Because if I say “I am a musician” but I’m not actively making music, it doesn’t feel right. But if I say “I’m writing a song” or “I’m playing guitar,” that feels present, active, alive.
The Question I Often Ponder
So what do I want?
Do I want to have a possession—something physical, a credential, a result?
Do I want to have an experience—a memory, a feeling, a moment?
Do I want to be something—an identity, a label, a role?
Or do I want to do something—the act itself, the process, the practice?
The answer matters because it shapes what I pursue and how I measure whether I’m moving in the right direction. And I’m realizing more and more that for me, it’s the experiences and the doing that matter most. Not the possessions. Not the labels.
Just the act of being present in what I’m doing, and letting the experiences accumulate into something that feels like a life well-lived.
I’m glad I work in an environment with a culture and people who allow and support my way of thinking. I have countless great experiences and conversations at Improving.
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