How Do You Measure Success?

I’ve been spending a great deal of time learning to use Social Marketing tools—for my business and also for a PR project I’ve taken on of late. Therefore, I spend hours on Facebook and Twitter—and not playing Farmville (although I do play Mafia Wars) or notifying the ozone dwellers when I make a decision on what color socks to wear in the morning (white). I am learning how to use Facebook and Twitter’s networking and marketing potential in the fullest possible way.

Therefore I spend a lot of time, when I am not editing a book, reading other social marketing novices tweets and status updates as well as those of the gurus.

Here’s the thing—the word “success” and all its various configurations is bandied about like “change” was during Obama’s campaign.

After a full day of book editing and working on my Twitter skills, I am sitting here thinking, “I wonder what each one of these people who are touting the secret to success, think success is?” (My inner thoughts are not always grammatically correct.)

In my 51 years on this planet, I have met many successful people—or rather, what we normally would consider successful people—rich, attractive, big house, nice car, etc. I am single, so I can admit this without having to answer any questions from a spouse—I have dated a man or two or four who epitomized that definition of success. Notice the word “dated.” That’s all I’m going to say about that.

I just finished a book called “Into the Wild.” It’s the story of a young man, Christopher McCandless, aka Alexander Supertramp, who left his privileged life after graduating college and embarked on a quest to live life—the “final and greatest adventure. The climactic battle to kill the false being within and victoriously conclude the spiritual pilgrimage.”

McCandless said: "So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more dangerous to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man's living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun" (emphasis mine).

Now, for those of you who know his story, let me say, I do not advocate all that he did. What I found though—what touched my heart and spoke to who I consider myself to be—is that this attractive, privileged young man who could have bought anything, gone anywhere, albeit through his family’s wealth and influence, did not have peace of mind, did not have happiness. He was not successful.

He went on a journey to be with God, to be with himself in his very truest state—a man not influenced by the trappings of his surroundings. His “goods” were making the waters of his life murky, were blinding him to the true beauty he wanted to find in the world. His outwardly successful life was a terrible failure to him—his parents’ success was achieved through deceit, anger, and neglect.

McCandless makes a fatal error during his journey, but during the journey, he is able to find peace and to find joy.

I have for many years felt that success is not measured by a person’s bank account, outward appearance, or any other superficial quality or quantity.

Are you at peace with God? Are you loved? Do you have sufficient wherewithal to meet your needs and to share with others? Are you able to make a difference in someone else’s life, in any small way, every day? All these things define success to me.

The man or woman who gets up every day and works hard and provides gladly for those he or she loves, is successful.

I will consider myself a successful woman when I have helped all of those I love, and for whom I work, achieve their goals. That makes me happy. I am at peace with God, and I am loved by my family, and God has given me a talent that provides for me and mine.

Now, I just want to make a difference.