I was visiting my Dad this past weekend, and sought his wisdom on the topic of “legitimacy.” Or rather, how do you fight imposter syndrome, but I kept that part to myself. My father is a very successful man, by any account, and I wanted his insight.
I asked him: “When do you know you’ve ‘made it?’ What criteria do you employ?”
He thought about it for a minute or two; and then he thoughtfully answered:
“Tomorrow.”
I blinked, and waited for him to explain. I can’t recall his words verbatim, but I will paraphrase what he said:
“I never want to look at my life and feel like I’m ‘done,’” he said. “I always want to grow as a person, and in life. I don’t ever want to feel like I’ve ‘stopped.’ Not even to look back on my accomplishments; I want to move ever forward.”
You could have knocked me over with a feather.
So much of my thinking has been milestone-oriented, sometimes goal-oriented, but never with the focus of achieving one goal only to move immediately to the next. When I do a thing, I think “yay I did it,” but I lose the victory in the grand scheme of “accomplishment.” Basically, when I achieve something I stop moving…until something motivates me again.
But my Dad’s philosophy makes so much more mentally-healthy sense; to treat each success as a marker, rather than a goal. The path continues; it winds and wends its way ever onward, which alludes much more to it being about the journey, rather than the destination.
“On my deathbed, I could say ‘I did it!’” he concluded. And what a great philosophy that is.
We are never done “doing.” We are never done being! There is always more to learn and to do and to fill our time with (even if it’s taking time out to relax and decompress)!
Let’s not sell ourselves short with thinking “we did it!” and then just resting on our laurels. Like folks who retire from their jobs—they start immediately looking for something new, something more, something enriching.
Keep going. I’m changing my outlook to that, going forward. And if you do, too, I hope it opens up worlds for you. It has for me.
Thanks, Dad.
He's a deep thinker. Much like his son.