Success.

What a word. It’s loaded, right? What’s it mean to you? What’s it mean to us? As a society, a culture, a group. A family?

I sometimes feel like a successful person, and sometimes I feel like success is far away and out of reach.

I am a 20 year entrepreneur. I have worked in commercial construction, residential construction and eventually in coffee roasting for the bulk of my adult life. I’ve owned my coffee company for more than fifteen years. In that time I’ve paid my mortgage, and paid my bills. All of them. Along with my life and business partner I’ve been responsible for countless thousands of dollars in payroll, years of space rent. I’ve overseen rebranding efforts and new product launches and I’ve overcome adversity.

I’ve very nearly raised three whole children. One of them claims to be an adult as I write this. It’s a grey area. In truth they are stretching their wings and beginning to dabble in adulthood, and again, alongside my life and business partner, I’ve created a space where they are ultimately safe to do that stretching.

My youngest child, for my birthday, wrote me a letter that made me weep in which they let me know that I would never be alone. They would never leave me. May it be so.

My middle child is fifteen years old, is strong and self aware and knows that I’m a safe place for a snuggle when they’ve had a hard day or a difficult experience.

I am beloved by my five wonderful nieces. I am cared for by my parents. I am interdependent on my brother. I would not do well if he disappeared and he has consistently not disappeared for all of these years.

I’m in therapy. I’ve known complex, personally challenging times and I’ve known vibrant times full of optimism and belief for a good future. I have tools to face my life. I’m able to re-frame my condition and wear confidence like a cloak.

What’s success? Is this it? I think this is enough for me to feel successful.

In unhealthy moments I live comparatively against others. Well I’m not _____…. At least I don’t _______. And while I think that’s ultimately a pretty unhelpful metric with which to measure the merit of your existence, it can sometimes feel necessary to place yourself within a properly framed reality.

So am I successful? I suppose I am.

More importantly for this conversation, do I value success? And that ultimately does come down to definitions I think.

What does it mean to you? Is success in the eye of the beholder, I wonder? Outwardly I do appear at least marginally successful. It’s because of all of the good things in my life. I have a farm. I have chickens and two very good dogs. I have a 20 year marriage to which I’m still committed and with which I’m well satisfied.

Sometimes, though. Sometimes I don’t FEEL successful. And it’s because I know where the bodies are buried, right? I know which windows are left unlocked at night. I know the ways in which I’ve left the door open to things that I consider unsuccessful. I know I have a temper that I allow my closest relationships to be damaged by. I know the ways in which my business is faltering or isn’t as “good” as it could be.

And when you’re a dad, a partner, a boss, those little foxes in the vineyard have real effects on real people. That’s probably where a good bit of my imposter syndrome comes from in this area.

I do value success. But more than success I think I value a growing sense of what it can mean in my life. What success can be, rather than what advertisers or social media tells me it is.

That, I think, is the never ending game. And it’s getting harder to avoid! We’re told in a hundred ways, a thousand times a day, that we’re not enough, not valuable to our communities without a certain definition of a successful life.

I want to be successful. I want to have and be enough. I want to define a life well lived on my own terms and on the terms of the people who love me and are committed to me and my well-being. I want that for you, also.

So, how do you define it? If you had to write your definition of ‘Success’ on a blank index card today, would it match the life you’re actually living?

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