The Meaning of Success

It has been pointed out to me recently (by a near stranger, no less) that I’m not particularly ambitious. And though my knee-jerk reaction was to defend myself, it’s hard to argue that my actions reflect a burning drive for world domination. For starters, I've spent the better part of the last 2½ years in pjs.

I don’t really feel the need to make fistloads of money or to start revolutions with my writing. I want first and foremost to feel proud of what I do. Second, I'd like to enjoy, even love my job. Sure, I’d prefer that my writing reach as large an audience as possible (I think the front page of Yahoo! counts), but some of the writing projects that I’ve enjoyed the most have been much smaller in scope. For example, this blog’s readership of three (plus the occasional interloper).

I have never thought that fame or fortune was the point of creating things. I don’t think you create very interesting things when that’s your goal. The goal should be to create something that pleases yourself first. That old saw “write what you know” doesn’t simply refer to drawing on your own experience and areas of expertise. It means write in the style that reflects who you are. Use your own words and your own voice to tell your story. The work is its own reward. Or, to take it one step further: Having a life worth living is its own reward.

* * *

For a much more eloquent argument (albeit 800-some-odd pages longer) on this topic, see George Eliot's Middlemarch, which is, incidentally, my favorite novel of all time.

Old School

My best friend Kate, whom I've known since I was 14 (I know, a whole TEN years ago), has decided recently to rediscover her high school self. I couldn't agree more. Before you dismiss this decision as the symptom of a highly premature mid-life crisis, I'd like to make our case.

The question of what one should do with one's life might be phrased by cynics as "How much am I willing to sell out?" Most of our high school selves would say: "Hold onto your dreams." That's because most of our high school selves never had to make rent or pay the bills. A large percentage of adults have made some concessions with respect to our careers.

Along that spectrum, my screenwriter friends Bob & Dax sold out relatively little (though any screenwriter can tell you that concessions are inevitably involved), I went somewhere down the middle, and my friends in corporate law...well, I guess I'll refrain from making any statements about their level of selling out lest it be considered defamation.

For most of us, high school was the last time in our lives when we made decisions without the impediment of adult responsibilities. Sure, some of those decisions were unbelievably short-sighted and immature. None of your business what those were. But, at least in my case, most of my core interests have remained similar. I was into literature and the environment, art and philosophy. Everything I like today stems from the things that interested me as a teenager.

I'm not suggesting we all dig out our acid-washed jeans and start writing bad poetry and crank calling boys again. I'm simply saying that it's a mistake to assume that the path to finding yourself follows a linear progression. Sometimes you need to take a step back.

What a Girl Wants

I’m going to take a break from writing about leisure and talk about dating for a minute. I think there’s a common belief that certain people are “catches.” That is, they have the status, looks and talent to qualify them as desirable on the dating market. I’ve never particularly cared for this way of looking at things, because it implies that our value as mates is definable in absolute terms. In reality, compatibility is a relative measure. The best match for me may not be the best match for you, and most certainly won’t be the best match for my friend Jen, who has rebuffed every pass-it-on attempt I’ve ever made.

Back to work: I think that many of us enter college thinking of success in absolute terms. We want to get the best grades so we can get the best job, the highest salary, the biggest house. If you measure your own success in absolute terms, then you’ve defined the parameters of your happiness in a way that’s dependent on other people’s opinions (aka society's values). Small wonder then, that many people my age have taken a step back and said: “Forget that. What do I really want?”

What I really want is to work with cool people, write about the things that interest me, and have the flexibility to work remotely and/or take time off to travel. I’m willing to trade some financial stability for those things. But we’ll see how I feel when I’m subsisting solely on instant ramen in a few years.