Success with a side of discontentment

I recently finished a great book about a man who achieved incredible success in a competitive field. He was known as the greatest of all time, an innovator, and even labeled a genius.

While his legacy is unmatched, the journey to that point followed a common theme among those who achieve such heights. He worked and sacrificed his way to the top, never accepting anything other than greatness.

The reason he is world renowned, is because of this complete obsession with winning. He would sacrifice anything to be the best. And he succeeded.

But reading his story reminds me of the countless stories I’ve explored over the years of the ultra-successful. While the ending to the story leaves them in a place of admiration and pride, the journey reflects something different.

The journey was painful. The journey required sacrifice of time with those he loved. It required tears and resentment. It meant long hours at work.

It required minimizing wins and magnifying losses. He made losing so hard that it took away the joy from winning. Winning became the standard and he said it felt as though a win didn’t bring joy or even pride but delayed the pain from loss.

We admire these individuals. We praise their great sacrifice to the top. We appreciate what they have done to prove that mankind can achieve greatness.

But the older I get the more I see this example as one of a man’s striving to fill himself with wins instead of happiness. Instead of love, it represents ultimate competition, beating one’s opponent and then searching for the next.

As I read the book, I felt as though we were isolating one aspect of this individual’s life. We focus on this area that brought fame and admiration. Because it was in a competitive, public forum, he gets interviewed and books written about him.

Systems thinking shows us a broader scope. I can’t help but think systematically when I read these stories. When I hear about the 15-hour days, I am not filled with admiration as much as I am with sadness. I don’t envy the workaholic, even when he wins it all. I feel for the family that missed out on that time and attention.

When I hear about the anguish of loss, I am left wondering if it was worth it. To have such self-imposed pain to reach that height seems torturous, not fulfilling.

I am not the type to think everyone should stop working and do everything to have fun. But these extreme examples often demonstrate an extreme in other areas, such as their willingness to shun their loved ones for more time to work on their craft. Instead of making me want to run out and do more work, it makes me want to take some PTO and spend more time with my family.

It isn’t that I am judging this man and criticizing his choices. But instead of admiration, I feel as though I am seeing what extreme success requires. And then I am left with pity more than jealousy.

We all get to choose our lives. It may not seem like it at times, but we all choose our path. Most of us want the greatness without the hard work and sacrifice. Instead, we go through life choosing the default, jealous of those with success but unwilling to work for it.

What if we can take it all for what it is? Let’s stop the envious mindset and see things for what they are. Let’s develop clear direction in our lives for what WE feel is important and then do everything we can to get there.

For the man in the book, he had clear direction. He did everything to reach that destination. For you it will be different. Maybe it is to be balanced in life, with enjoyment, contentment, and discomfort all there at times without extremes in any. Maybe it is to be a great parent, uncle, teacher, accountant, or coach.

Most likely it spans multiple categories. That is good. Don’t assume life is all about one specific goal. Life is about exploring and finding what is meaningful to you. Then, work to grow that purpose into joy, pride, and contentment. If it is like the man in the book, then stop at nothing to achieve. But understand what you sacrifice might be more important than any trophy at the end of your voyage.

This is how you become content. You realize the pros and cons of your choice and become ok with it all. Good and bad. You know the direction you are traveling and understand it is your choice, so you don’t get too caught up in the ups and downs. Instead, you float along doing what you can to create your own vision of success and happiness.

I can’t help but recall an interview with the parent of a successful artist who died young from a drug overdose. They asked him if he was proud of the greatness that his son accomplished before he passed. He said he was, but would rather have him be an accountant and here with his family than gone but such a success. So if you choose the “accountant” path, know that it might be its own form of greatness.