success

How dictionary.com defines success:

suc·cess

   [suhk-ses]  Show IPA

noun

1.

the favorable or prosperous termination of attempts or endeavors.

2.

the attainment of wealth, position, honors, or the like.

Success has many possibilities. Obviously what I define as 'success' could be vastly different from someone else's definition. In fact, I might feel I've attained success if I raise a family. I might feel successful if I become a Manager, a VP or the President of a large corporation. Hell, it might mean becoming the Prime Minister for some to view themselves as successful.

I feel like many people muddle through life hoping, wishing for success but not knowing what that means for them. Is success finding love? Trying your best? Earning a long-service award? Learning a language? Seeing the world?

I think success could be hard to define while I'm in a transitional phase of life - working a potentially temporary job, not finished school, unclear on where I want to live or what exactly I want to do with my degree once it's over. 

So maybe, for the time being, success could be more simply defined as being content with where I am, who I am, what I've become so far and what I am becoming. I think I am successful, even now, because I am content.

How do you define success? 

xo

goodbye to a favourite

My favourite author, Maeve Binchy, passed away on July 30, 2012. It's hard to believe that someone could feel affected by another person's passing when they do not even know them. Maybe through her books I feel like I've known her, but truth be told, I do not know her at all.

I was in Victoria, BC, last week and went in to a bookstore that is closing. Everything in the store was $1.00. I went to the novels section and the first ones I noticed were Maeve Binchy's. At one point I owned all of her books. However, when moving province-to-province I had debated, packed, rethought, unpacked, and finally repacked all the books and sent them to goodwill. I missed them. Of all the books I've read, the only ones I've ever desired to read more than once are Jane Austen and Maeve Binchy. It was at this store that I heard of her passing. The bookstore owner informed me that she had died about a week prior to my being there. My initial response was, "What! No!" He apologized for being the person to break the news to me and I simply said, "It's just so sad."

You see, Maeve Binchy was single-handedly the person that got me interested in visiting Ireland. Through her descriptions in her books of small-town Ireland, I was certain I would like it there. I didn't know until years (and 16 books) later that I would fall in love with it.

I found Maeve Binchy's website prior to leaving for my trip to England and Ireland in 2011. I found her email address on it and I wrote her an email, essentially asking her if I could meet her on my trip. But then, while looking over the email draft, I thought it silly to ask someone so famous for time out of their day to meet a fan. Plus, what would I say to someone incredibly talented with her words? And what questions could I possibly ask? In short, I felt inadequate to make such a request of her and I subsequently deleted the email draft. In hindsight, I wish I had at least tried. Who knows what would have happened.

Life is too short for regrets. Follow your gut instinct - you never know what will come of it.

For me, now, I will wait for the post-humous release later this year of her very last book, "A Week in Winter." Oh, and I'll probably re-stock my Maeve Binchy novel collection.

xo

growing up

As a child I was desperate to grow up. Inquisitiveness and always feeling older than my years added to my desire. Many have told me that I have an “old soul”, but back then, I didn’t know what that meant. All I wanted was to be 16, wearing a pink dress and blowing out my birthday candles. I wanted to be graduating high school. I wanted to be kissing boys. I didn’t understand that with age came responsibility, and the potential for a world of pain I was protected from just then. I viewed being grown up as glamorous - a life filled with freedom, expensive clothes, and no one to answer to. I could eat candy and pizza all day and dance and smoke cigarettes by night.

As an adult, I can make my own decisions on where to go, I can eat whatever I choose, and I could smoke if I wanted to – which I don’t. But being an adult brings problems. Problems I never would have known then, fears I didn’t know I had. 

When I was small, a dilemma involved asking, “which toy will I play with next?” or, “why is that kid mean to me?”. Now a dilemma may be, “which person will treat me as a toy and how will I pick up the pieces once I’ve let them and they’re done?” or, “how will I explain this spectacularly life-altering poor choice to my friends and family?”

Some days, I wish for the simplicity of being a child. But most days I wish that I hadn’t spent my childhood wishing and that I just enjoyed. In adulthood, I choose to enjoy. Every step, and every misstep. 

a new outlook

Rather than focusing on my failure to keep my sock blog going, I am choosing to see the positive side. I've decided to go a different direction with my blog; a more sustainable direction.

It was impossible for me to find the time to blog every single day. I'm an inconsistent blogger at best. Because of this, 365 days would have taken me three years (or more). Truthfully, I didn't have enough interesting things to say each day. I mean, it's hard to believe that my life is not fabulously captivating all the time, but alas, it's just not. And it was probably a tad selfish for me to think writing every day about myself and my life would be interesting for people to read.

Instead, I decided to go with a more traditional blog. One where I can express myself freely, when I feel like I want to. Yes, this is much more sustainable for me.

There will be more posts to come. More thoughts to share. More stories to be told.

Follow, or don't. This is cathartic for me and I think I'll enjoy less pressure much better...

xo