The Road to Success; Currently Under Construction

I noticed last night, that the next chapter in my 'Declarations of You' book is all about success and that got me thinking (a la SATC's Carrie) what exactly is success?

It's something we were asked years ago during a taster 'philosophy' class at school. Another classmate declared they'd know that they were successful when they drove a BMW and had a five bedroom house. I remember being totally shocked at the time, because as a definition of success, that seemed so alien to me. My dad drove a BMW, putting it very firmly in the 'waaay not cool' category of stuff, and a house - however many bedrooms - meant staying still in one place. Something at 17 I thought was totally pedestrian. I wanted to travel the world and fall in love. Once I'd achieved my 3 As at A-level that was. It was all quite clear to me then.

As far as my 17 year old self is concerned, I'm a success. I have fallen in love; I've seen lots of the world. I also got those three As. (I'm not sure where I thought that they might take me in life, given one was in Sociology and another Theatre Studies, but, hey. Tick). But to be honest, successful isn't something I have felt like, for a very, very long time.

After school and Uni, where success is defined by the system as our measured grades and scores and I always aced, it was a total non-entity as a backpacker. You were on a journey and that was all. I wasn't worried about where I was headed or who I was. I was me against a whole new backdrop and in a whole new circle of people every few days. I wasn't expected to have a career, even a job. I wasn't expected to have much. Beyond a backpack and a tolerance of the cheapest wine on offer at the local supermarket, that was.

Then once I got to Australia, mid global financial crisis, I learnt, for the first time ever, what successes counterpart, failure, was. Having succeeded as a teacher in the UK - getting the first job I applied for, being praised often by my head of department and generally feeling valued (you know, apart from by the kids which is pretty par for the course as a high school teacher) it was a totally different ride in Oz. I couldn't get a job. I was the unspoken dregs of the barrel. A female in her mid twenties with no kids - thus who'd surely cost the school in maternity any day now - and a non Aussie to boot.

Eventually, I picked up a contract. Then another and another and many, many more. Contract after contract where I was always the new girl, always one step behind, never there long enough to make much of an impact. In between, I wrote books that no one wanted to publish and blogs that no one read and scoured University course brochures looking for a new direction for my new life. A new career and thus a new version of success to strive for.

But I kept getting distracted. I was finishing my MA and travelling between each of my jobs and kept 'popping' home to see my mum and my friends in the UK. Work became a means to an end rather than a career. It wasn't what I thought 'success' might look like but I was happy and I had the money for most of what I wanted, which was clothes and travel. Plus, plenty of time for success later, once I worked out how that might look to me now.

And then I had my son, and there was no job to keep me in cool clothes and travel. Plus no point anyway because unless I could fit a tit through the arm or neck hole to feed I couldn't wear it, and travelling, even to the local supermarket, became no fun at all as I needed to lug 403 essential items I couldn't have even imagined a use for pre kids with me. And as for time to achieve success? Hell, I didn't have time to shower.

Now, three years into stay-at-home motherhood later I have come to realise, when it come to my successes, these days, all I have a very clear take on is what they aren't. Which I guess, is at least a place to start...

They aren't to do with my business. I love working on all things M&A, but can only see the things I can't do with it yet most of the time. Like add in bigger sizes, new prints and styles and start selling pieces wholesale.

They aren't to do with my writing, which I rarely get time to do anymore and remains unpublished (by anyone other than me). I have folders and folders of half finished kids books, unedited novel chapters and blogs in note form.

They aren't to do with my health - as I type I'm sick as and still an additional 5kgs above where I (and the Weight Watcher's guidelines) want me to be and the idea of smashing a GRIT class anytime soon is about as laughable as becoming a chicken this afternoon.

Perhaps then, I need to look a little closer to home since for now at least, I'm stuck here. Could my successes be more to do with the day to day stuff than anything grander? Does it count that my son can use the words 'bloody' and 'ridiculous' perfectly in context at three? That my dog not only sits, but speaks, rolls, dances, and plays dead on command?

And ultimately, does it matter? As the Dalai Lama said; 'The planet does not need more successful people. The planet desperately needs more peacemakers, healers, restorers, storytellers, and lovers of every kind.'

While my everyday is mundane and small and it doesn't feel like much of an achievement, I am certainly working on my peacemaking skills, my healing skills and telling a whole load of stories. Perhaps they trump successful anyway. Perhaps they are even success itself.

I dunno yet, I've not read that chapter...

#success #money #parenting #parenthood