It occurred to me not so long ago that my measures of success do not carry much weight when compared to that of the general population.
My goals in life include, but are not limited to the following:
(in no particular order)
To build and inhabit a Tumbleweed Tiny House
Establish a modest savings
Take better care of myself
Spend more time with family & friends
Learn French
If tomorrow arrived and I was miraculously able to check just a few items off of my humble list, I would still fall short of what most people seem to feel they need in order to be considered a success. And some may ask; “why would anyone want a tiny house?”
Allow me to save that speech for another day shall we?
I’m not sure when I realized that I was a full fledged adult, but I noticed that the years seems to get shorter the closer I get to middle-age. And even though I do feel the pangs of rapid aging, I am often told how brave I am and how young I am to have my own business. And while I can see why some people may feel that way, I somehow don’t think I’ve done quite enough; there is still too much that I am far from accomplishing.
I am not successful!
I’m not?
Take this blog for example; I’ve been told that I need more traffic than I am getting, but to be totally honest, I can’t help but be tickled hot, flamingo-pink that I have nearly 1200 visits each month.
I don’t think that these people realize just how humble my aspirations really are.
In order to get an understanding of why they might say that I am small potatoes, I did a google search for “successful blog stats” and quickly realized that there are blogs out there with thousands of visits each day and by those standards, I suppose I am a failure. By my standards, I’ve done something great! I’ve managed to make minor incidences and mishaps of my life worth reading. Since when did increasing your legion of loyal followers by hundreds in a matter of months become yesterdays news?
I refuse to believe that I need to be as busy as Starbucks, as thin as Kate Moss, as light as Halle Berry and as popular as Paris Hilton in order to be proud of myself.
It seems to me that time is the biggest factor for me in determining exactly how successful I am. I feel a considerable amount of pride when I realize that I’ve done so much in the past few years and so it’s safe to say that just about anything is possible, given of course that my expiration date allows me a few more decades.
I really got to thinking just yesterday when I was getting ready for work exactly how valuable time really is. I have a sizable concert ticket stub collection that adorns my bedroom wall and I had often thought of how valuable they are as bookmarks in my book of life. I see the band names, the venues the cities and instantly I’m transported back to that time and lastly my eyes affix upon the date and like a freight train, I’m hit and nearly killed- “has it really been that long?” I had to stop myself from doubling over when I saw that it had been just over 2 years since I saw Bjork live for the first time. I suppose it’s mildly shocking seeing as how I so vividly remember a very large percentage of what life was like for me two years ago on that very day; I was living in Atlanta and had just purchased a new car. It seemed as though I had the life that I had thought was meant for someone else. I remember knowing at that time that I was 100% content. Sure, work was a necessary pain, but there was enough balance to make it worth while. After all, it had afforded me the luxury of a 1-bedroom apartment in lil 5, a cute new car and Bjork tickets! I would have been silly to think otherwise.
It may seem as though I am cursing the present by making it sound as though things were somehow better then than they are now, when as I am writing this, I do not feel that way at all.
I am currently no worse or better off, I am simply different.
I have goals because I desire to continue changing and being able to look back and remember specific times in my life when something or everything is in no way similar to where I am as I reflect.
The next time I visit this post, will I be 10 years older?
…in a beach house with my husband and child?
…healthier?
…thinner?
Will I have seen Bjork a second time?
I have no idea, but I like being reminded that time never stands still.
It’s always changing and I should try my best to keep up with it.
If I continue at my current pace, then I’ll have just barely come to understand the better part of the last week.
