And @Lora for this:
“I currently define success as the ability to sit in the landscape of my life as it is, no matter what is happening, and accept it, take it in, and still say “yes, come on in!” when something new knocks at my door.”

Thank you!

I actually don’t have many good thoughts on this one. All I know is that the other day I had this moment when I was *acutely* aware of how much my success (and my ability to think of myself as a success or a failure) is related to my job, and specifically two things- status and salary. And I became painfully aware that I absolutely define myself through my job. Of course I immediately wanted to sever this tie but at that thought I was struck by fear that if I don’t define myself through my job I don’t know how to measure myself. I don’t know how to decide if I’m successful or not. And of course, I need that validation.
(It’s kinda funny how many emotions you can feel deeply and how many things you can realize in a moment of insight)

Since then I have been thinking about the Buddhist idea of no-self (I know, I’m not digging this newagey phase either, but I do live in a Buddhist country, so I think I deserve a break there). I used to think that it was a really scary idea, because of course I have a self and it’s coherent and important. But sometimes I think how freeing it would be to not believe that I am coherent and important, which would also make me incapable of being a success or a failure… So I guess what I’m saying basically is maybe there’s some loophole that can get me around the idea of having to measure my success at all.

Now, not so much. Careers? They don’t go as planned. Life? It unfolds in ways that you would never imagine.

Now, success is doing something with my day that makes me happy, setting a goal and reaching for it – even if I fall short, it’s pushing myself and supporting my fiance and being happy with my life.

What does it matter if I get a Pulitzer, if I’m not happy and growing as I get there?

A regional theater in the area was given a Tony Award many years ago for excellence in theater. The husband and I used to be subscribers and would go after work. Generally this meant we were tired and cranky, and would have to drive an hour to see a show. At that time the artistic director for the theater would choose very serious pieces, which would add to the sturm and drung of the whole experience. One evening as we approached the theater with the other tired weary throngs, my husband hesitated and stopped in the doorway. I, in my “let’s keep moving” teacher-way, shoved him to get him through the doorway. (Think Mythbuster dominoes here). He in turn fell against the plexiglass display the theater had hanging on the wall with the Tony in it, which in turn pulled the box off the wall along with some of the plaster. The box exploded and out fell the Tony, and well you know that little spinney thing with the tragedy/comedy masks on it well, it rolled off too, and the broken Tony was on the floor next to the husband. Everyone came running over to see if he was OK, at which point he turned and pointed at me and said “she pushed me”. Nice. Fortunately for me, the show was about to start, and everyone went darting to their seats. End of commotion. Now the theater has the Tony in a special alcove, on a pedestal,roped off. Good thinking on their part.