What Exactly Is Success?

You know when I ask myself questions like this my first go to is the dictionary. I hate to say it though, today that really didn’t help me much. Seems that the dictionary consortium is a little vague on this one. Apparently success is achieving results that are wanted. Or hoped for. It can be narrowed down to positive results. Or even further, success is when someone or some action becomes popular, wealthy or even achieves a lot. Non specific a lot. At this stage of my life how can I know if I am successful if I can’t really explain what that means.

Throughout my life I have started down various paths. Some went well. Others were abandoned quickly. Others over time. I get bored. I weight lifted to some extent for close to fifty years. Yet I never achieved that weight lifters body. Yet as I near the age of a true senior, 65 years old, I know the years in the gym have helped me retain a greater degree of strength and bone density that is often missing in my age group. I studied kung-fu for a number of years and did eventually reach a 1st degree brown belt level. Why did I stop? Why not go for the ever magical black belt? Good question. I don’t know the answer to that. Is it a fail. Was it a success? In the long run, what I learned in those years of training were life saving techniques. But also, discipline. Respect for the art. Knowledge of the history of the practitioners. Why they trained. How they trained. I quit piano after a couple of years but I know how to read music now. It really helped me when I sang in choirs. And I still dabble on the piano. I have started and abandoned writing at least ten books. But that doesn’t mean I won’t ever finish. I am not a great swimmer but I can save my own life, at least for a bit. I was a terrible snowboarder but I had fun. I love skating even though I can only cross over one way. I snowplow to stop. But I don’t fall down. I suck at Chess but I am pretty good at backgammon and crib. And I play them all. I must say that I truly was a champ at Ms. Pac Man.

In my education I quit lots but I also finished lots. I made a career out of short term jobs. Financially they were very successful I would say. But they tore my soul to pieces. I did not respect the industry I worked in and in the end I was conflicted. So I quit. Again. Success, because I found the courage to follow my values? Or fail, because I quit a lucrative career? I justified my actions often. Not to myself but to others. Because I knew people didn’t understand who I was and what I wanted from life. And so, when asked about my decisions I often lied in order to hide my true motives. I found going to University was so easy. I didn’t have to know what I was going to do in the future. People just thought I had it figured out. Which I didn’t. Not at all.

Getting married took a lot of the questions and answers out of the equation for me. My husband had a plan in life and for the most part I did my best to follow the plan. Yet, it became clear through the years that I was going through the motions. It wasn’t my plan. In time I pushed back in many ways. It was hard for him as I switched course in so many ways. From what I see in many friends, women either switch course and live life authentically or get divorced. My hubby was a smart guy. He recognized that in my years of push back that his response would dictate the rest of his life. Married or divorced. Those were the outcomes he had waiting for him. And so he listened. He adjusted. He let me be me. The win was we stayed married. The biggest win. We were both happier. I had a couple of brothers who married women with plans. Both are divorced and remarried. Leaving their exes to live life alone. With their plans.

My father felt he was a very successful man. Now he came to this country with a wife, three small children and very little in the way of money and things. He worked hard and struggled and worried about money most of his life. He died with a modest home, a small pension, old stuff and very little savings. But in his mind he was a very rich and successful man. He had raised a large family to maturity. No one went to jail. {Not for lack of trying for the youngest two}. We all went on to some sort of higher education and had decent careers. We all did okay. Most importantly, he instilled in us very important values. And he backed us always. We were his legacy and he was proud of the family he created. Even when we hurt him. He loved us. And when we strayed, we always came back. Because he was the very embodiment of goodness and honesty. To him that made him the richest man in the world. He died poor in material wealth but rich on love and kindness.

From the outside I think my life looks like a shit show. I am as flighty as ever. I am still starting and not finishing so many things. I don’t have a plan. Well actually, I have plans that change almost daily. I have become my father. I dream about things. I want a tiny home because I feel bogged down by possessions. Other days I want to add a second story onto my modest home so I can have the family Christmas my children had at Grandma’s. Staying over night. But I live in a small home and I love it. I love my books and records and cd’s. I love the room where I do yoga and meditate. I love my garden. I love my peace and solitude. And I love my sleepovers with grandkids. I don’t need extra room. We all sleep in the basement TV room and watch movies until the wee hours of the morning. I love my cabin and then I want to sell it and buy something closer to my house. I want to buy a houseboat. I want a condo. But where will I keep my motorbikes?

My family means everything to me just like my father. But I have a daughter who seems to hate me. She hasn’t spoken to me for over five years. I haven’t seen her children in that time either. Is that a fail? Some would say yes. I don’t think so though. I gave her life and I love her and her children dearly. They are a part of me. This is a choice she made. It is her fail. On the flip side I have other children who make my phone ding constantly as they include me in group chats. Who accept me warts and all. Who share their lives and show me love and compassion. And when I am down or sad, they listen. And they hug me. And if I am out of line they nudge me gently. There are Grandchildren who see me all the time because they are allowed to. More importantly, they ask to sleep over. There is nothing more beautiful than little people who stop everything just to get a hug and kiss when I walk in the door. I am as popular as Norm when he walks into Cheers bar.

I guess the dictionaries are right in a way. I did get a lot of what I hoped for in life. There are a lot of positives when I look in the rear view mirror. When I think about where I am at this minute in this place, I am very successful. But the reality is I am not done yet. My life isn’t over yet. I’m probably not going to do anything earth shattering in the years to come. But maybe I will finish refinishing the chairs of my Grandmothers dining room set. I did the table and buffet 25 years ago. I might finish a book. Or a short story. Maybe a poem. A short poem. A Haiku or a limerick. I will definitely patch those jeans I love, One day. And I will spend a month in Scotland. I have always wanted to live there for a year. But a month is doable. And I have a friend who will make me. I will raft down the river that is a 15 minute walk from my house. I’ll just tell the Scotland friend, She is a doer. And today, here at the cabin I took apart the old microwave stand and I am all ready to rebuild it with new wood. Just a little bigger. I bought the wood last year, and the microwave may sit on the floor for a few months. But I will get it built. And that my friends is success.