The Lies Society Tells Us About Success

.

I don’t think success is the problem.

I think our definition of success is.

Most of us inherit our ideas about what a successful life looks like long before we’re old enough to question them. We absorb them from our parents, our teachers, advertising, social media and well-meaning friends.

Get good grades.

Find a respectable job.

Earn enough to buy a house.

Buy a bigger house.

Retire comfortably.

Somewhere along the way, many of us quietly conclude that if we follow the script, fulfilment will arrive as a reward for good behaviour.

It’s rather like collecting loyalty points at the supermarket. Surely if we tick enough boxes, life will eventually hand us a complimentary sense of purpose.

Unfortunately, life has a habit of changing the terms and conditions without warning.

One of the privileges of listening to hundreds of people’s life stories is that you begin to notice patterns. Over the years, I’ve met men and women who looked wonderfully successful from the outside yet felt profoundly disconnected from their own lives. I’ve also met people with modest incomes, ordinary homes and little public recognition who radiated an unwavering sense of contentment.

It made me wonder whether our definition of success might not need an update.

The first lie is that our value depends on our productivity.

This may be the most damaging lie of all.

From an early age, we’re praised for achieving, producing and performing. Before long, many of us begin to measure our worth by what we accomplish. We feel guilty when we rest and slightly uncomfortable if we spend an afternoon doing nothing more ambitious than reading a good book beneath a tree.

Then life intervenes.

Illness, redundancy, retirement or burnout suddenly make productivity difficult or impossible, and with it our sense of value seems to evaporate.

But if your worth can disappear because you lose your job or decide to work part-time, perhaps it was never worth calling it worth in the first place.

The second lie is that busier means better.

We’ve somehow turned exhaustion into a competitive sport.

“How are you?”

“Terribly busy.”

It’s almost become the socially acceptable answer, as though admitting to having an afternoon free is a sign of moral weakness.

I’ve yet to meet anyone on their deathbed wishing they’d answered more emails or attended one more meeting that could easily have been a memo.

The third lie is that success looks the same for everyone.

It doesn’t.

For one person, success might mean leading a global company. For another, it might mean finally having breakfast with their children every morning. One dreams of climbing the corporate ladder. Another dreams of growing vegetables, playing the piano and knowing all their neighbours by name.

Both of those dreams are equally worthy.

Our mistake is believing only the first one deserves applause.

The fourth lie is that life should unfold in a straight line.

School.

Career.

Marriage.

Promotion.

Promotion.

Promotion.

Retirement.

Neat.

Predictable.

Orderly.

Real life, however, has clearly never read the instruction manual.

People fall in love unexpectedly. Careers end without warning. Dreams evolve. Health deteriorates. Children leave home. New opportunities arrive disguised as disappointments. Looking back, many of the moments that changed our lives most profoundly weren’t part of the original plan at all.

Perhaps the detours weren’t detours.

Perhaps they were part of the path.

The fifth lie is that once you’ve arrived, you’ll finally be happy.

Sometimes you are, for a while.

Then the horizon quietly moves.

You get the promotion and start thinking about the next one. You buy the house and begin planning the extension. You retire and wonder why nobody mentioned that having unlimited free time also requires figuring out what it’s for.

Happiness built entirely on future achievements has an irritating habit of remaining just beyond our reach.

I’ve gradually come to believe that success has less to do with what fills your bank account and more to do with what fills your life with meaning.

Are you surrounded by people you love?

Do you have work that feels meaningful, whether anyone pays you for it or not?

Do you laugh often? Out loud?

Do you notice the seasons changing?

Do you experience moments of profound peace, intense joy or jaw-dropping awe?

Those questions won’t be asked in an interview, and the answers won’t appear on a CV.

I firmly believe a successful life isn’t one that impresses other people. It’s one that fits. It fits the person you are rather than the person the world expects you to be.

So if closing your front door at the end of the day feels a little like coming home to yourself, I’d say you’re already far more successful than you realise.