I was going through all my work, my posts on social media, and every little effort I had made. What I found left me amazed—there was no clarity, no consistency, no sense of a unified journey. My scattered attempts seemed like a thousand disconnected islands. Even worse, I realized that most of my time had been consumed by things that had little to do with building my career or shaping the person I wanted to become. Endless scrolling on YouTube, checking what was happening in other people’s lives on X or Facebook, losing myself in the vortex of social media loops—none of this had anything to do with engineering, or with the ambition burning within me to integrate Artificial Intelligence into urban planning, smart cities, and sustainable design.
It struck me deeply that the world is trembling under the weight of climate change, searching for minds bold enough to craft solutions. Yet here I was, spending hours on content that only delivered fleeting pleasure. In that moment, I realized something that successful people before me had always known: success never comes from moods; it comes from the courage to tie yourself firmly to a plan, even when your mood begs you to quit.
The science behind this truth is clear. Angela Duckworth’s famous work on grit reminds us that passion and perseverance matter more than fleeting bursts of inspiration. It is easy to be excited when the road is new, but the true test comes on the days when the work feels dull, repetitive, or painfully slow. Those who endure, who keep walking even when there is no applause, no novelty, no obvious reward—these are the ones who eventually carve their names into history. Willpower, as Baumeister and Tierney remind us, is a muscle. It grows with use. And like a muscle, it only strengthens when stretched against resistance.
The stories of great achievers prove this timelessly. Thomas Edison, who failed thousands of times before giving the world the light bulb, never called those failures defeat. To him, they were lessons—necessary stepping stones to discovery. J.K. Rowling, rejected by twelve publishers before Harry Potter found its way to the shelves, kept writing in the shadows of rejection until her persistence outshone the darkness. These people did not wait for the right mood to carry them forward. They simply refused to abandon their roadmap.
But if consistency is the golden thread, why do so many of us struggle to hold it? The answer often lies in the snares of modern life. Social media platforms are not innocent tools; they are dopamine machines. Every ping, like, and scroll delivers a micro-dose of reward that trains the brain to crave instant gratification. Researchers have shown how these dopamine bursts hijack the brain’s reward system, leaving us restless, distracted, and addicted to short-term pleasure while long-term goals gather dust. It is why one can spend hours scrolling without even realizing it, yet struggle to concentrate for thirty minutes on meaningful work.
Escaping this trap requires a kind of rebellion. A deliberate reclaiming of the mind. Some scholars recommend a “dopamine detox,” where we reduce exposure to high-stimulation activities so that the brain can once again find joy in slower, more meaningful pursuits. Others, like James Clear in his masterpiece “Atomic Habits” , remind us that success is not about extraordinary motivation but about environment design—removing distractions from sight, crafting spaces that invite focus, and replacing temptation with ritual. Research by Peter Gollwitzer adds another tool: the power of if–then planning. If it is eight in the morning, then I begin my research. Simple pre-commitments like this transform intention into action and help guard us against the fickleness of mood.
Still, even with these strategies, there will be days when the work feels unbearably dull. This is the crucible of success. Boredom is not a signal to quit—it is the proof that we have moved beyond the honeymoon phase of the journey. Those who master greatness learn not to escape boredom but to walk through it. Cal Newport calls this deep work: the rare ability to focus without distraction, to immerse oneself so fully in the process that repetition itself becomes a kind of meditation. In these hours, mastery is forged.
And strangely enough, once you cross the valley of monotony, something shifts. The work begins to inspire you. Self-determination theory explains that when we align with goals that give us meaning, growth, and autonomy, the process itself becomes a reward. When I think about how AI could shape resilient cities in the face of climate change, the task no longer feels like a burden. It feels like a privilege—a chance to contribute something meaningful in an age that desperately needs solutions.
The Japanese speak of Kaizen, the philosophy of small, continuous improvement. Every day, a little better. Every day, a step closer. Progress is not measured in giant leaps but in steady footsteps, repeated faithfully until they form a path. Add to this the art of visualization—not just dreaming of the destination, but imagining the daily grind that leads there—and suddenly persistence becomes natural. We begin to see that failure is not the end of the road, but the curve that redirects us toward mastery.
Looking back now, I realize the beauty of this truth: success is not about inspiration striking at the perfect time. It is about showing up when you least feel like it. It is about being faithful to your plan, not your mood. The mood will betray you, lure you toward distraction, seduce you with instant pleasure. But the plan—if you hold fast to it—will never betray you. It will carry you, slowly but surely, to where you are meant to be.
And so I choose to walk this path. To build my skills in civil engineering and AI, to imagine cities that breathe with intelligence and sustainability, to serve a world gasping under climate’s pressure. I may not always feel like working. I may be tempted, distracted, or exhausted. But I will keep faith with my plan. For in the end, moods pass like shadows, but plans carve destinies.
Writer | Engineer | Political commentator |