Do what you really want to do.

Fifty-four years ago, the Sunday Times offered a £5000 bonus to those who could travel around the world without interruption alone at the fastest speed. Technically it was a game, but in hindsight, it was more like an initial choice in business life.

There are no qualification requirements, and there are no rules. Nine men took part in the race, one of whom, Crowhurst, had never sailed at all. After 312 days and 27000 miles, only one person finished the task.

But it was the two contestants who never finished the competition who generated the most news. One named Crowhurst eventually died of fraud and depression, while the other, Moitessier, found himself happier than ever. Both of these distinct results come from decisions at sea, and it'sounds like they have nothing to do with navigation.

Crowhurst reached an agreement with a British businessman who agreed to pay for the game on two terms: they would plan a media hype portraying Crowhurst as a navigation expert (though he had never sailed) and Crowhurst would have to return all the sponsorship money if it was not finally completed.

So Crowhurst seems to have two choices: continue to race and face destruction at sea, or go home and face bankruptcy and humiliation. He actually chose the third option, which is outright fraud, fabricating voyage records and deceiving the media, sponsors, fans.

Moitessier is a professional sailor who is on track to win legally five months after the start of the race. Moitessier likes sailing but despises the commercialization of the sport, or more accurately, he hates the other side of sailing. He just likes sailing for the sake of sailing.

Spending nine months at sea alone chose to be separated from society. Moitessier is a reverse thinking version, he has no idea of sailing to please others-attracting fans for the media, race organizers, sailboat magazines-he dislikes it so much that in the middle of his voyage, he has had enough and completely changed course.

Moitessier wrote in his diary:

Now it's a story between God and me, between me and the sky; a story only for ourselves, a great story that no longer cares about other people. Have time, have choice, do not know where to go, no matter where, it is not important, there is no doubt.

He moored in Tahiti six months later and stayed there for many years. He built a house on the beach, grew his own food and wrote a book about navigation. "you can't understand how happy I am," he wrote.

Ironically, Tahiti is so far away that it needs so much return. Despite dropping out of the race, Moitessier did circle the earth and set the world record for the longest uninterrupted solo voyage in history-more than 37000 miles.

This fact is not mentioned in his book. He doesn't seem to care about external standards and so-called records.

But the Crowhurst who made up the story is different, panicking all day long.

Anyone who spends nine months at sea alone begins to lose his mind, and when Crowhurst and Moitessier make their own decisions, they are in a poor state of mind. Crawhurst's last diary is an incoherent ramble about submitting his soul to the universe, while Moitessier writes about his long conversations with birds and dolphins.

But their results seem to focus on the fact that Crowhurst is obsessed with what other people think of his achievements, while Moitessier is disgusted with them. One lives for the evaluation criteria of outsiders, and the other only cares about the internal measure of happiness.

I don't know how to find the perfect balance between internal and external standards. But I know that society is very binding on external standards-following the path set by others, whether you like it or not. Social media will magnify it tenfold. But people have a strong natural desire to be independent, follow your own habits, do what you want to do, and do it with the people you want to do when you want to do it. This is what people really want.