I haven't been successful

It's hard to ignore the projected lives of the people we view as having succeeded.

Different lifestyles are tempting for different people. I don't want to live like famous actors, sports figures, or even the big tech billionaires buying private islands.

That doesn't interest me.

But there is something else that I've always looked to—namely creatives who succeeded in making delightful products that benefit the lives of people around them.

I've followed these stories stories, dug deep into their mythologies, and done what I could to emulate the path to success they share.

In my mind I've thought if I could only reach that—make something that tons of people use—then I'd be happy, I'd consider that success, and reach the pinnacle of what's possible in life.

That's not quite the glamorous lifestyle that attracts others. But it's what pulls my attention, and has been a daydream for years.

I've been reconsidering that view.

It's not that I don't want to continue to push and play with ideas. It's something I've been privileged to do in my day job for years, and I love it. I want to also do that with my own ideas; create things that solve problems I care about.

But I've been at this for close to twenty years.

The illusive passive-income, 4-hour workweek, make it and set it and rake in millions on a private beach lifestyle—yeah that's not happening. And even if it did, the illusion of nirvana from such a change has been shattered. I wouldn't want that.

I don't want to create a life of leisure, expecting that some thing I worked on magically became successful enough to continue to increase the size of my bank account, and just drift off into the sunset.

I want to continue to try and build successful products—it's been a driving factor for so long, and it's fun to keep tinkering and learning—but the motivation has shifted.

Recently I've been trying to focus on and appreciate what is, instead of what could be.

Shifting from a life constantly looking for endless improvement—and trying to take moments to appreciate and be thankful for the current state—has put me in an interesting position.

First, I'm a bit more aware of, and grateful for, what I have, the people whose lives I'm part of, and what I've been able to do with my life. And second, I'm wondering where the immense amount of creative energy I do have should be channeled.

I'm not expecting a breakout success anymore. At this point if it happens that'd be fine—I think—but what I'm hoping for is that the ideas I play with, the things I create, will have enough value and use that I can justify the time spent on them, and ultimately that they may lead to some level of financial security. And beyond that, I just want the creative endeavors to enable more of the same.

Make something great, share it, know that it helped someone, learn from that, and rinse and repeat. That process, that cycle, is a reward in and of itself.

In some ways this feels like admitting defeat. Acknowledging that fact that, as I near 40, the lifestyle and success I dreamed of is unlikely; while being grateful for so many innumerable wonderful things I've experienced and been blessed by, and appreciating what I get to do everyday—tinker and create.

I'm a bit saddened that I haven't won the app, SaaS, startup, founder, lottery. But I'm also grateful that I got to play, to learn, to be, to use my skills enough to be able to provide a living for my family.

And so I'm trying to see if this new revelation, this new way of thinking, this shift from wanting something unattainable (winning the product creation lottery) to something completely doable (dedicating a life to creative tinkering that helps people) will unlock something in me. I hope that 40 years from now I'm the kind of person that creates, explores, and builds delight.

If that happens, if that's what I could say of myself at that point, then I'd consider my life a success in that arena (not to mention the other, far more important areas of life).

If you're someone who has felt the same—done a lot that you really love, but always felt like you never quite reached the pinnacle—well, frankly that's the reality for the majority of people. As a result what can we do about it? Why should my success by definition mean that I've reached some statistically significant financial metric—and instead focus on a life that is full of wonder and care.