The Myth of Having It All

Would you rather be objectively successful in a life you wouldn’t choose, or decent in one you would?

“The world will ask you who you are, and if you don’t know, the world will tell you.” — Carl Jung

When we work and toil, moan and hope, but don’t aim... It’s all kind of for nothing. Caught in the tide of others’ expectations, we tread water without knowing where to head.

Average is average for a reason. It’s the most common way to be. A century ago, only the privileged even had the luxury of wondering how they might “leave a mark.” Today, we’re clambering over one another to try to do something lasting, something legendary, despite knowing only a few handfuls of us will make it into the consciousness of the next generation.

That should be liberating. Rather than pressure ourselves to chase infinitesimal odds, we can figure out what makes us successful (money plays into it, but once we establish a level of security, its importance tapers) and just… do whatever. Unabashed.

You don’t need to shatter glass ceilings, reinvent the wheel, or solve the riddle of the sphinx. You just need to be you, unapologetically. Try to end each year better than you started it. That’s enough. That’s more than enough.

Excellence manifests in niche effort. No one has it all, no matter what you think.

At ZAAG, we fuel high performance. We include countless incredible people who trust us to heighten their resilience each day. But Olympians excel in one area at the expense of others. Childrearing brings challenges that the childless don’t navigate. Business owners experience risks and responsibilities that the salaried avoid.

Success is relative.

High performance isn’t a fixed destination. It’s deeply personal. If becoming world dressage champion gets me out of bed and makes my 9-5 worthwhile, that makes the early mornings, late nights and hoof marks on my chest feel like progress. You, on the other hand, likely couldn’t give less of a trot.

Success is only valuable when we imbue ourselves into it.

A medal or promotion isn’t meaningful in and of itself. The former’s a piece of metal and the latter is a change to an email footer.

But what they represent, growth, is one of the purest markers of being human.

Think back to when you were 21. You were a moron. (We all were.) Hopefully, today, you respond to challenges in a totally different way. The older we get, the more we experience and the less novel things are. It’s called the oddball effect and describes how our brains devote more energy to encoding unusual things. This is why our day-to-day becomes forgettable. Not because we’re not doing enough, but because we've done so much.

The older we get, the fewer risks we take. We’re evolutionarily wired to seek safety. Nonetheless, success lies in navigating the waters between Scylla and Charybdis; between fear and recklessness; between what’s expected and what matters; chancing failure for the reward of success.

That’s why you ask the person out even if you don’t think you’ve got a chance. 

Why you paint in the evenings even though you suck.

Why you enter the event you think you’ll lose.

Because when one day it works out, when you succeed, it makes it all worth it.

The script has flipped in the past couple of decades. We don’t seek out distractions. It’s more of a chore to find quietude.

In that quiet is where we ask ourselves the questions, reflect on our actions, and address our demons. In that quiet is where we define our idea of success.

For those of you reading this who say, “I don’t know what success looks like,” that's because you’re not giving yourself the space to find out.

When we don’t identify success for ourselves, we’re swept up in the gales made by the winds of other people’s wings.

A life that feels like yours is worth more than any that satisfies the definition of someone else’s.