ACCORDING to Hollywood or every other best-selling novel you’ll pick up, the key to success is being in the right place at the right time. How romantic and exciting—who wouldn’t want to believe it? But this attitude also nurtures the convenient illusion that one is simply ill-fated. “Such things can’t happen to me,” or, “Not everyone is born so lucky.” What if we look at it another way? What if all those glorious opportunities or life-changing moments are all around you? You’re just not the right person. Not yet.
There are countless stories of famous actors, musicians and athletes who were once at a make-or-break moment, on the brink of bankruptcy, or in depression or whatever the misfortune—until that fateful day when they were discovered, magically setting in motion the gears toward paths of success. Such a redemptive moment can be thrilling, motivating and undoubtedly makes the perfect TIME cover-story. But the constant idolizing of a singular moment also distorts our perception of what success requires, moreover, what success means.
Today’s mind-numbing social media culture might hint at the struggles of daily life, but no post will ever get near as much traction as a rising celebrity or a luxurious lifestyle. I am not saying that results shouldn’t be praised or are less valuable, as they can be barometers of hard work. My worry is that with every hapless day and with each disheartening and detached like or comment on someone else reaching their goals, we become immune to contentment, skeptical of our goals and even our self-worth. I can testify to this feeling and I certainly have perpetuated to the former trend. Yet, it isn’t entirely our fault. Society’s admiration and values are simply misplaced.
People don’t realize this, but what success stories have in common is that the person was actually successful before they were “discovered.” When those people caught a “big break,” they were already good at something before they were identified to be profitable by it. They became a success, and then someone happened to notice. The greatest people I know wouldn’t ever stand out in a crowd, yet once they have left a place, they will always be remembered. Whatever is popular now won’t always be, but that which has purpose will live on. Indeed this may be a lonely endeavor. And, oftentimes, it is. After all, success is a solo operation. There isn’t anything wrong with that. For better or worse, true progress is something strangely visceral and deeply personal. The only one who can really measure it is you.
So what if we do things differently this year? What if we focus on being someone instead of achieving something? Perhaps then, we’ll realize that the reward isn’t found on any stage. Rather, it is found in midnight coffee shops, in dusty libraries and inside echoing gyms—for genuine success is merely bridging the once insurmountable gap of who we were and who we aimed to be.
You’ll probably miss out on innumerable opportunities tomorrow or next week, or next month, because you are simply not qualified for them—but that doesn’t mean you’ll never be. If we can focus on who we become and how we conduct ourselves when no one is watching, we might discover that the painful struggles as well as their rewards are found in the very same place.