Success

What constitutes success? Is it society’s standards or an individual’s own assessment of his life? Can one be considered successful if he experiences success in one area of his life, but finds the rest of his life a shambles?


Can success be measured externally or is it an internal measurement? Who has lived the more successful life?

Is it the man who has pulled himself out of poverty by the scratching of his own fingers, or just by the dint of hard work and smart decisions, but who has not taken the time to make friends, other than those who could advance his fortune? Or is it the man who has taken time along the way to appreciate the people around him and to build deep relationships with those who have crossed his path or at least dealt with them fairly and honestly while they were in his life?

Is it more successful to reach the end of one’s life surrounded by people , hundreds, even thousands of people, none of whom you know well or for that matter really know anything about you? Or is it better to reach the end of your life surrounded by just a few friends, all of whom know you well, who know something of your dreams and aspirations and who have laughed and cried with you?

Is the man who has achieved all of his life, who at the end is still looking around for more worlds to conquer who is the more successful? Or is the man who looks back on his life and realizes he had a wonderful family and friends and that his life was rich with laughter and tears and is content to say, “I had a good life”?

Who is more successful, the man who was able to control events in his life so that he was never surprised and was always prepared for whatever might happen? Or is it the man who rolled with the punches? Who felt that life was an adventure to be experienced as it came, good or ill?

Who is the more successful, the man who has no humor about himself but laughs at the foibles of others, or the man that realizes life is fun and funny and laughs most often at himself and never at, but with others?

What is success at the end of life? Is it the man who rails against his fate which was always to pass from this earth, or is it the man who can sigh with contentment and say “I did good”?

As you stand in line at the grocery store, who is more successful, the man whose face is plastered over all the magazines and newspapers or the man standing next to you?