top of page

Success isn’t one-size-fits-all

A man running on a hamster wheel chasing a dollar bill

I’ve been house-hunting recently. My wife and I bought our first home just over five years ago, and it’s been great to us. We’d like to think we’ve been good to it as well. This is the house that welcomed our first child, Benji (a Golden Retriever-Border Collie cross), and our second child, Georgiana (of our species). When we bought the house, Sarah and I were long-term “partners”; now we’re married. Many good memories have been made in our first home, many soul-searching conversations have been had, and many life-determining decisions have been made. Despite the sentiment attached to our first home, it’s time to move on to better support our future life as a family.


Yesterday, Sarah and I visited an open home. I liked it so much that I went back again earlier today with my dad for a second opinion. It’s a beautiful home that ticks all of our boxes. It’s in a nice, family-friendly neighborhood, has a wonderful outdoor space, the interior is well-renovated, and there’s the right number of rooms and living spaces. The only downside is that it’s slightly beyond our budget. To be clear, this is a budget we’ve set for ourselves. The price of the property is within our means but not within the scope of our wider goals.


As I considered the hypothetical outcomes, I knew what it would mean to put in an offer on this property. The most obvious implication was that our mortgage would increase substantially compared to our current loan. In today’s environment, with high interest rates, this would mean diverting more money to servicing the new mortgage instead of directing it toward other avenues. The underlying implication is that we’d need to sacrifice resources that would otherwise be funneled into fueling a personal dream.


I had a realization as I worked through the emotions of this decision: I really liked this house. It was never mine, but I latched onto the concept of ownership all the same. Yet, was it really worth downgrading this other, more meaningful dream in exchange for an upgrade to our lifestyle? Was it worth sacrificing my goals for a more conventional life?


Granted, a conventional life carries a number of benefits, three of which come to mind. Firstly, there is a sense of certainty. It’s a path that has been walked by many people before. If you follow the template, the outcome is likely to be predictable. Secondly, there is stability – or at least the illusion of stability. The regular fix of a salary provides financial security. A routine of work and family, with a sprinkling of hobbies, sets the foundation for a stable life. Lastly, a conventional life facilitates external validation. The measures of success are clear and recognizable: a promotion, a new house, an addition to the family.


These are all worthy outcomes. For most people, a conventional life leads to a life of satisfaction. Perhaps not fulfillment, but satisfaction nonetheless. While certainty, stability, and external validation are all valuable, I know there will always be a nagging regret if I don’t chase after my dreams – the regret of what could have been had I followed a less conventional path.


If I don’t try, I’ll never know what could have been. It might work out, it might not. But I have to try to find out. In the words of Jim Carrey: “I learned many great lessons from my father, not the least of which is that you can fail at what you don’t want, so you might as well take a chance on doing what you love.”


And if it doesn’t work out, I’m confident I can return to a more conventional path. I can come back to the well-trodden road and follow the template set by many before me.


I’ll finish by saying that success, for some, is found on the conventional path. And that’s the beauty of it. Success is subjective. We all need to craft our own definition. Don’t let the world – or me, for that matter – define it for you.


P.s. If you'd like some additional reading, this Reddit post is a good read. I remember stumbling across this post a number of years ago. I wonder how much it has made an imprint on my life. You can't change your life when you're looking back on it. But you can change your life based on the regrets that somebody else has made in living theirs.

Commentaires


bottom of page