I talked about bowing out of current diet trends talk recently. Partly because I don’t agree with it all, but mostly because I’m not convinced that a number on a scale ever tells the whole story, even though I feel like that’s what our society is obsessed with.
It’s got me thinking about what success looks like. Would I be “successful” if I lost the 15 pounds I’ve put on over the past five years? And am unhealthy and unsuccessful if I don’t? I have friends who are over the moon after losing 30 pounds and then so beaten down when they gain it back; they tie their feelings about themselves to an arbitrary number and end up feeling discouraged and like failures.
Can’t we feel successful even if we don’t look like the model on the cover of Runner’s World or Sports Illustrated? We all know celebrities or people in our own lives who are skinny at a cost, who rely on drugs or extreme regimens and eating disorders. We all have friends who can eat anything they want and never exercise and somehow manage to stay slender. Are we to believe that’s what success looks like? I personally believe success comes from incorporating consistent healthy behaviors in our everyday lives, from moving, from being mindful about the foods we choose, and from caring for our emotional well-being. Regardless of where our numbers land on a scale, we can feel successful for today—even in just this moment—when we make incremental positive choices, whether it’s skipping the doughnut, drinking more water, walking around the block, or choosing salad over fries. The way I look at it, success is in the effort, the progress, and the habits we’re creating, as well as the confidence and strength we’re gaining.
I guess I’m not comfortable with the idea of success being determined simply on the basis of what’s happening on the outside. And yet, of course, I recognize that idea is counter-intuitive and goes against what we’re taught to believe. Our culture is all about numbers, times, inches, weights, and money: measurable outcomes. I prefer to think there is a lot of “success” going on behind the scenes. With so much out of our control, how discouraging to think our efforts don’t count unless a goal is reached, measured, and recorded.
What about grades? Is that the barometer of our achievement? To what extent will students go to secure good grades? Cheat, cram, buy, or plagiarize? Forfeit their health? Disregard other areas of their lives? Is the Valedictorian the most successful student in the class? Really? Obviously, I’m all for working diligently and believe we should make sacrifices for an education. However, I think we’re missing the boat if the only benchmark we set for ourselves is what letters show up on a report card. We tell our kids all the time that school is for learning. About themselves and others, how people work, how to deal with tough situations and personalities, how to manage your time and money and emotions, how to balance work and classes, how to get along with roommates, how to assimilate new ideas, how to share opinions tactfully and thoughtfully, etc. There’s no way to define how victorious they’ve become in these other facets of their education if all we focus on are the grades. In fact, I was listening to a podcast about the power of kindergarten teachers instilling in their students “soft skills,” people skills. The researchers followed these kids throughout their lives and discovered they outperformed and were more “successful” (in even traditional ways) than those students who simply focused on academics and grades. There is power in being able to relate to others, in enjoying learning for the sake of learning, in being able to think creatively, in being able to express ideas, things we may downplay if all we promote is simply the idea of good grades.
What about music lessons? Surely there’s a measure of success there. Is it finishing all the books? Is it being able to play at a certain level? Is it? I initially thought yes. But I’ve changed my mind. Simply being exposed to music enriches a person’s life. Having years of lessons teaches self discipline, respect, and work. She has the background to appreciate the efforts of musicians; she has learned so many songs she was never able to play just a couple of years ago. You never know, she may end up teaching lessons down the road. He notices key changes in popular music, his genres are all over the place, he attends concerts for fun, and he’s loved his years in band. Neither likely to be accepted to Juliard, but has any of it really been a waste? Were they or we unsuccessful? What about our kids who tried an instrument and quit? I simply choose to believe those were also successes. Because now they know what they don’t like. They were able to bow out, to choose for themselves, to live with the consequences of not being able to play an instrument, to know they were the ones who decided to not take advantage of an opportunity presented to them. All valuable lessons.
Businesses? Certainly, the profit margin tells the story. But I don’t think that’s all there is. Sure, some companies could make more. But they pay their employees well and provide generous benefits. They use local providers and quality, sustainable products. They’re conscientious as they consider the impacts on the environment; they give back. A company mindful of more than the bottom line is a winner in my book.
What about surgeries, medical procedures, science experiments? Failures are stepping stones to discovery. What went wrong can lead us closer to knowing what will go right. Obviously, a death is never deemed a success and it seems calloused to even consider that. But success comes as a doctor or scientist learns from his mistakes and improves his technique for next time and so many times to come. We’re all familiar with the stories of failures in science that led to great discoveries.
How about marriage? Does the number of years a person’s been married mean anything? I think maybe. But maybe not. Maybe they have grit and determination to make the best of a tough situation; that’s definitely noteworthy. But maybe they’re just biding their time till the kids are gone. Maybe they’re just co-habitating, living parallel lives. On the other hand, maybe they’re committed to stick with it through the good and bad. Maybe they really are working and improving. Only they know the answer to that. But I don’t really know that 25 years tells much of a story. There are people who love more deeply and have learned more in ten years than many learn in a whole lifetime of marriage experiences. In my mind, the quality of marriage trumps number of years.
I think about my time as a leader at church. If I based success on numbers related to how many people we’ve convinced to come back, I’ve lost. If I had to base it on how many meetings we’ve had or how many problems we’ve solved, I’m out. If I try to connect it to whether or not our newsletter got done every month, if we visited every woman on her birthday, if we made everyone happy, there’s no way. If I had to come up with what success could look like in this realm, all I care about is showing the women what love looks and feels like. I have absolutely no control over who comes or leaves, what they’re getting out of church, or where they are with their feelings. The only thing I can do is show up with love. I can visit, text, call, write, and pray, yes. But there’s no way to measure the good that’s happening in these women’s lives; that’s all inside them. So I choose to view success in the form of love.
I even think this applies to relationships with family and friends and the world in general. Are we successful when everyone likes us? I think that’s a common misnomer these days, as noted in our drive to accumulate “likes” and “followers.” But what people think of us is completely out of our control; there is no way to assess whether we’re a success in that arena given that kind of criteria. I choose to define success in relationships if I do my best to love people. To imagine where they’re coming from and to give the benefit of the doubt. To be classy and kind even when it’s hard. To accept where they are and meet them there. If I can maintain that standard for myself, what others choose to think or feel is up to them. And I know there’s absolutely no way everyone will understand or like me. But that doesn’t mean we have lost or failed. We succeed when we show integrity and love.
We were anything but successful preschool parents if we’re talking about them knowing letters or numbers or beginning to read before kindergarten. We refused to get into all that. We figured the best start we could give them was a love for learning. We strived to encourage creativity, questioning, exploration, and loads of hands-on playtime. So I couldn’t even tell you when the kids learned to read, I have no idea. But preschool was awesome for them. Their teacher’s philosophy aligned perfectly with ours and she gave them a powerful start for school because she allowed them to learn through play instead of insisting on meeting some scholastic standards. Loved it, they’re all inquisitive, independent learners: success in our book.
We’re also sort of out there when it comes to parenting in general, if you’re just peeking in. And yet, regardless of what it all looks like, we would do it mostly the same all over again. We believe it’s so much more important to teach than to have it look pretty. We believe in keeping relationships strong rather than keeping up pretenses. We’d rather have kids who think for themselves than having them feel they have to conform. When they were little, I would rather have them learn and create and play freely than keep things tidy and picked up all the time. I wanted them to be able to entertain themselves and think outside the box instead of needing guidance or a device at every turn. I embraced messes as a means to learning. As a result, nothing about our family or home will ever make it into a magazine or write up; it’s all still a work in progress. We have very few family rules, we try as much as possible to let them choose at every junction, we don’t micromanage or censor, we give them leeway and try our best to trust them. Obviously, it’s backfired occasionally. And it will. But we feel successful because we’ve taught them to think for themselves and that it’s ok to make messes and to fail.
Even with something as tender to me as my faith and beliefs, I simply can’t base the success of my parenting on something as personal and out of my control as whether or not my kids embrace it. All we can do is teach them what we’ve found helpful and what we believe. It is up to them to accept it, tweak it, reject it, or simply put it aside for a time. As hard as that is for some to accept, it doesn’t mean parents aren’t successful. In fact, to me it means we were. Because the last thing I want is kids who appear to be compliant to appease their parents. I’d much rather have kids who think for themselves and who have invested the time and effort to come to their own conclusions.
I just read this recently. “It is possible for young people to be raised in a Latter-day Saint home, attend all the right Church meetings and classes, even participate in ordinances in the temple, and then walk away…. Why does this happen? In many cases it is because, while they have been going through the motions of spirituality, they were not truly converted. They were fed but not nourished” (Stephen W. Owen), meaning sometimes we insist on our families following traditions without understanding the why behind all we encourage and allowing them to really digest our teachings.
I think God is merciful, kind, and gentle as we’re ambitiously trying. Or even desiring to make changes and to do good. In scripture, “for his sacrifice shall be more sacred unto me than his increase” for “it’s not our successes but rather our sacrifice and efforts that matter to the Lord” (Terence W. Vinson). “The Lord does not expect perfection from us at this point… But He does expect us to become increasingly pure” (Henry B. Eyring).
This is where I’m coming from. To me, it’s not an arrival, a winning ribbon, or a number. Success is movement and growth, learning and exploration, endeavoring and showing up, acting congruently with our beliefs and doing what we can to make the world a better place. Our “failures” have made us who we are and have brought us to this place. We’re successful because we’re here. Because we get up each day and try again. Because we’re figuring things out. Because we’re fighters. Because we’re getting better at loving. So many ways to measure success. Let's just not limit ourselves to a number.
