How do we measure success or failure? Are there even clear lines of demarcation?

I recently came back from a family vacation. I drove 4 and a half hours north with my younger brother and 6 year-old nephew to visit for a few days with my Mom and Stepdad at their summer condo. I remember feeling anxious about the trip; it was the first time in as long as I could remember that the five of us would be together for such an extended period of time. I badly needed some R&R and wondered if we'd stumble upon the many potential tripwires or landmines familiar to most families which could turn a vacation into discomforting angst in a heartbeat. I remember telling myself before the trip: just breathe. I remember telling myself as I drove: just relax, don't try to have too many in-depth discussions; just get along--if you do that, the trip will be a success. In one sense, I set the bar pretty low; in another, it was still a high feat to accomplish.

I'm happy to say I feel the trip was a success. I met my stated goal or intention: there were a few close calls but no knock-down arguments or disagreements. Further, there were no car accidents or speeding tickets, the weather was nice, and I found some down time for myself at points throughout the weekend. Certainly, it could have gone worse. Yes, in my fantasy, my nephew could have been a little more patient (or maybe I could have been a little more patient?) and my family could have had one of those made-for-TV heart-to-heart talks where the past was healed forever and my brother, especially, would come to some lasting clarity and commitment about what he needs to do to get his life on track.

I really do think things went well because I kept my hopes, intentions, and expectations modest.

In the middle of my trip, I did prod myself to have a heart-to-heart with my Stepdad about having some tough emotional times this past July and into the first week of August. I shared how my business had been off, how I was starting to feel burned out, how I felt disappointed by the relatively low interest in the Fall Conference I'm putting on and, how, after 6 years of marriage to a wonderful partner, it still seemed to take so much work to keep the garden green.

My Stepdad listened, paused, and said: "It sounds like you're feeling like a failure." His words struck me. I knew I'd been feeling disappointment, anger, frustration, sadness and fear but he took my feelings to a whole different level.

I realized the essence of my "misery" could be traced to a core belief that I was somehow a failure or, at least, failing: failing to  be the perfect husband, failing as a therapist and businessperson, failing as a conference promoter/organizer. I'd been feeling I haven't been living up to or achieving my goals or reaching my expectations. In my own mind, my goals and expectations never seem too high or lofty--what's wrong with high standards--but maybe they are. I have struggled with perfectionism and been called an "overachiever." By the way, if you ever ask an overachiever if he or she thinks he's an overachiever, you're likely going to hear the answer "no." It's the same as the denial of an addict.

My Stepdad and I continued or conversation. He asked: "Do you remember what I once told you about failure and success?" "No," I confessed. "Failure and success are imposters," he said.
 
What? What does that mean? I looked up the word "imposter" in the dictionary. One definition reads: "One who assumes a false identity or title for the purpose of deception." Hmmm... I can certainly see a pattern in my life of pretending and deceiving: pretending to be perfect, never angry, never petty, always honest, always giving, always selfless. That hasn't worked out so well. And I've been increasingly aware over the last few years that every goal I set and every achievement I reach is loaded with an undercurrent of proving I am good enough. In short, proving I'm a success and not a failure.

Perhaps, what we call success or call failure isn't necessarily the truth about who we are or what is. One person's success is another's failure and one person's failure is another success. It reminds me of Shakespeare's famous quote: "Nothing's good or bad, only thinking makes it so."

In one sense, my recent family vacation up north was neither failure nor success. It was what it was. I chose to think of it as a success and, I suppose, if it hadn't worked out the way I wanted, I would have thought of the weekend, or of myself, as a failure. In one sense, whatever is happening in our lives at any moment is neither failure nor success. It is what it is. Yes, it's very Buddhist, I know. It's like the story of the man who neither gets excited nor disappointed by life's events because events--and feelings--are so fleeting.

All I can say is this: though I still get upset when things don't go my way and I still have fantasies about things going just as I want them to, I feel like I'm making progress in my awareness of my patterns and in catching myself more quickly and coming back to acceptance of what is.

This success/failure/winning/losing theme echoes widely.

With the Olympics just ended, if ever there were a forum or venue to highlight so-called stories of success and failure, this was it. From Michael Phelps' 8 gold medals to the drops of the batons in the relay races, I was most struck by the weightlifter who left his silver medal on the award-presentation mat because anything less than a gold was, in his words, "a failure." Wow, how sad, I thought. I remember watching the end of the men's marathon as even those who finished without winning a medal smiled and raised their arms triumphantly--just for finishing the race!

Also, here in the U.S. (and likely elsewhere) we're in the midst of another intense election cycle. Politics has become increasingly about success or failure. Either you win or lose and, often, politicians try to win at all costs. Can we "win the battle but lose the war"? Who defines success or failure? The politician? The voters? The media?

Competition can bring out the best in us--propelling us to stretch ourselves and to extend our beliefs about what is possible. Competition can, however, have a darker side: when we constantly compare ourselves to others and feel we are either falling short (inferior/failure) or feeling we are superior (superior/success).

Perhaps, we can keep an eye on our own progress as the best indicator of whether we are moving forward or not. But even then, this whole notion of growth is tricky.

Abraham Maslow, the noted psychologist, formulated the hierarchy of human needs pyramid to suggest that there are potential (and necessary?) stages of human development contingent upon our meeting of basic needs in an order: biological/survival, safety/protection, belonging/love, esteem/achievement, and self-actualization/fulfillment.

Spiritual, religious, and recovery-minded people often aspire to grow, heal, and to at least taste a bit of their potential. We just need to be careful about how we define ourselves and how we chase success or dread failure. We are all doing our best on some level. Again, it seems to be a dance between setting our sights too low and too high. Of course, one can set one's goals as high as one wants and it would be great if a sense of failure never entered the equation.

That so many people are just struggling to survive while others are living with such abundance of wealth and opportunities feels heart-breaking.

Yet, life goes on... We've all heard the famous quote: "90% of success is just showing up." It's that 10% that's the tricky part!