Success
2020 08 15
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After encountering someone recently who seems to equate success with money acquisition and the type of place a person chooses to reside, it reminded me of how little that sort of thing matters to me, and never has. Is that partly due to having grown up and lived a largely 'without' life? Yes, likely, because it forces you to seek value in non-material things, to seek personal value, to make your own fun and find joy in that, and contentment.
What I find most curious about those who cling to material wealth as a measure of a person's worth, is their insistence that those who live a life without are envious of their material goods. One thing I've never experienced is material envy of others. I have successful friends with pricey things, big homes, businesses, and none of it's mattered. They're my friends because I enjoy them as people, or their talents, or their niceness, or their individual quirks. It seems to me that the only people who suffer real material envy are the people who use it to sign-post their own success, to "virtue signal" their value. That's a sad thing. No amount of material wealth is going to give you value as a person unless you're using that wealth for something other than a Midas hoard.
This person accused me of being jealous because I wasn't successful and I was once again struck by how empty that is given how I have come to define life success. Sure there are some material things I wish I had, but the lack of them doesn't impact my mood, my temper, my estimation of myself, my contentment in how things are. My only material concern is having sufficient money to make those things happen. Note I say "sufficient", not "a lot", not "rich". I need "enough". Money is a tool by which other things can be made to happen, but the search for money in and of itself is an empty pursuit.
I do not have a husband, 2.5 children, a house, a car, or any of the other trappings by which some measure success. I live in a small, crappy apartment, but that apartment is close to everything I need it to be close to. I realised years ago that while a house might offer some conveniences and niceties an apartment does not, I actually didn't want the burden of owning one, the hassle of taking care of it. I'm content to pay rent so that physical things are someone else's problem. That's what rent is for, to pay for space and to make things someone else's problem, to relieve a person of stress.
What do I have? I have talents that I can pursue, a mountain of art supplies, employment that I actually enjoy that is arranged in such a way that I can literally work whenever I want so my time is my own to do whatever I want or need with. I can go where I want when I want, sleep, pursue hobbies, and do it in my time without being choked by someone else's constraints. That is the best gift one could hope for in life. I have learned to work around my vision impairment. I have travelled, driven a racecar, studied tai chi, learned how to use a sword, and volunteered my time to help others. I can write decently when I want to, sometimes my art is good, I am a more than decent jazz singer, and one of these days I'll learn to play that bass that's sitting to my right.
I have friends who are good to me. I have a wide variety of interests and curiosities and the ability to pursue them. I have access to some of the best fruit in Canada, particularly the peaches I wait a whole year to spend so few weeks eating. I donate, volunteer, protest, read, talk to people, am not vicious, cruel, bigoted, envious, or vulgar, and understand what I do and do not need in life.
I am content with this life. Things are good. This is successful.