There is something really interesting about people (which I think I'm borrowing from Atomic Habits by James Clear): Every time you take an action in service of a goal, it helps prove to yourself, a little at a time, that part of your identity involves pursuing that goal. For example, each time I spew out a journal entry or cobble together a blog post, it reinforces the belief "I am a writer."

With this in mind, it suggests a theory: doing the thing itself changes you. After some suitable time delay, perhaps. (This is how exercise adaptation works at least.)

But connecting this together still feels muddled. What is the difference between doing the thing and the consequences of doing the thing? The difference feels ... undefined? Maybe even arbitrary? All of this triggers my "inconsistency detectors" suggesting more thinking needs to be done.

Maybe the difference is that some actions provide certain emotional states while we're doing them: satisfaction, flow, meaning -- and this is what people mean by the first part ("doing the thing"). Maybe we can define consequences as the things that happen after we stop acting. Like the royalty checks that hypothetically will clog up my mailbox one day.

There's the motivation, the pursuit, and the achievement, and the consequences of each. I think it's fairly easy to tease apart the motivation and the pursuit, but you're focusing on a much more nuanced aspect of the action and its consequences. These really are tied strongly, but worth addressing individually.

As you point out, some actions are motivated and pursued because of the consequences of the achievement (writing a book or song, founding a company, being elected president). But others are intrinsically rewarding, which is usually shorter term.