I posted a meme tonight about the essence of life, and what ought matter the most in our society, our world, our planet. The quote wasn’t my own. It appeared a scrawl on the side of a building like graffiti. It might have been photo-shopped but was effective. It spoke of how the planet doesn’t need more successful people, but instead needs more love and peace and healing. I was taken by it enough to believe it mattered.

I thought about it afterward and concluded with that age old question; what defines success in our lives? I think it meant being comfortable with ourselves to give to others rather than being wrapped up in having to prove our worth. Isn’t success simply being satisfied with who we are without measure? I found myself re-evaluating my life and once again treading the terrain of that slippery slope. What is my success story? I concluded it is undefined.

I have always had rough patches to go along with my happier moments. One would argue without the pain there would be less appreciation for the happier measures in our lives.

I have been through a difficult couple of years, times of which I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. So many cathartic miseries that somehow today are beginning to have positive meaning in my life.

So how do we measure success? How do I measure my own? Instead I would like to choose to live my life with the freedoms put before me. I would like to appreciate my life and the world around me.

That is my measure of success.