It’s been one of those weeks. You know them, where too much is going on, and not necessarily right, and a lot is proving more stress-induing than anything else. It’s one where you suddenly and strangely consider all that you’ve completed [and not completed], not just that week but over the years. Then that odd, annoying question pops into your head: <bleep>, am I a failure?
What started this soul-searching desire to determine achievements accomplished/realized? A need during one of those stress-FULL moments to examine where I am in my [still not-my-own] life, observing others and noting theirs. It prompted another question: exactly what measures success?
♠ from a writer’s perspective—is it acquiring an agent or a publisher, making a million or two, or being featured in [plastered across] media?
♠ from a blogger’s perspective—having a gazillion followers?
♠ from an artist’s perspective—selling an oeuvre?
♠ from a 9-to-5er’s perspective—surviving the day?
♠ from an entrepreneur’s perspective—earning more cash / acquiring more assets?
♠ from a sponge-off-the-parents person’s perspective—passing another day without work-related anxiety or accountability?
♠ from a 20-year-old’s perspective—finishing college/university?
♠ from a 30-year-old’s perspective—being ensconced in a relationship and/or having a family?
♠ from a 40-year-old’s perspective—possessing financial stability and/or continuing to climb the corporate ladder?
♠ from a 50-year-old’s perspective—having the wherewithal to do what you want when you want?
♠ from a 60-year-old’s perspective—embracing retirement sooner than later?
♠ from a drinker’s perspective—polishing off a few more ounces before bedtime (crash-time)?
♠ from a gambler’s perspective—playing one more game . . . just one more?
♠ from a dreamer’s perspective—hanging on to the dream one more day, week, month, year?
Perspective defines success. One person’s victory may be another’s defeat. It’s all in how it’s measured, rather like the half glass empty versus the half glass empty. So, rather than reflecting on what didn’t happen, embrace what did.
Maybe I haven’t attained all that I’d hoped at this [later] stage. Life’s not over yet; there are a few more years to come. I’ve waited this long—I’ve struggled this long. What would it hurt or cost to do so a little bit longer? 😉 Think I’ll tuck that measuring tape back in the drawer.