What is your definition of success?

Last weekend, I was having a lazy Sunday scrolling Substack in bed and came across a quote I haven’t been able to stop thinking about:

“The planet does not need more successful people. The planet desperately needs more peacemakers, healers, restorers, storytellers and lovers of all kinds.”( Dalai Lama)

(In true Sunday morning fashion I wrote down the quote and now cannot find the article to link but will comment it if I can!)

I’ve spent most of my adult life striving to become ‘A Successful Person’. But I don’t think I’ve ever actually paused to define what success means to me. Which kinda feels like an important step. And classically aligns with every other aspect of my life where I throw myself into the deep end without pausing to think through a plan for when I hit the water.

One gripe I do have with that quote, and the majority view, is the assumption that “peacemakers, healers, restores, storytellers and lovers” are not successful people. This isn’t necessarily wrong by the modern day definition of the term. As a society, we tend to deem successful people as those moving with consistent urgency. Assume that a man in a suit rushing out of Liverpool Street station is late to a Very Important Meeting. That the blonde taking selfies with her friend and their Pret Iced Latte whose in his way is just messing about. But why isn’t the person who has time to slow down, see their friends, and enjoy their coffee more of a success than someone whose moving too quickly to see the world around them?

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I’m just as guilty of this as you likely are. I don’t view myself as a success, primarily because I compare myself to others.

The designer whose seemingly constantly booked out. The founder flying to three cities in one week. The friend whose just landed a six-figure role with a title I don’t quite understand but got over 4k impressions on LinkedIn.

These are the type of people many of us label successful.

And because we admire them, or follow them, or perhaps even secretly compete with them, we start to want what they have. Without ever asking ourselves if we actually want their life.

I’m ambitious. I work hard. I love freelancing. I get excited about growth and results and career milestones and the prospect of £10k months (or even £5k months). But will I finally call myself successful if I hit some magic revenue number? Or will my goalpost just move?

My own goalposts are ever growing, as imperfectly as these circles.

CEOs are often held up as the epitome of success. They’ve “made it” in their career. But a huge percentage of them are, presumably, burnt out, overworked, and sacrificing time with their families in exchange for their careers. That might be a trade-off they’re happy with. But is it a trade off we consider, or also strive for, when talking about success?

Doctors are often called successful too. And I agree they absolutely are. They’re doing vital, world-changing work (much more than I can say). But they’re also underpaid, overworked, and asked to shoulder impossible emotional and logistical burdens every day. They’re successful. But would we envy their lifestyle? Is that the type of success I would like for myself?

Now imagine someone who works a simple, low-stress job. They make enough to live comfortably. Have free time to spend with their family or friends. Go for long walks. Read books. Go on the odd holiday. They’re happy.

We rarely call that success. But when I describe that type of lifestyle to people (without an income or job title attached), almost everyone says “God, sounds like the dream.”

So why isn’t it framed as success?

Maybe it’s because we think success must look impressive. It’s got to be hard-earned. We’ve been taught to believe that anything good must come from struggle. From 80-hour weeks and late-night pitch decks and awards we don’t really care about but want to win anyway.

The ‘hussle culture’ narrative where we’re all working toward a title or income goal. But if I strip it all back, what do I actually want?

I want flexibility. I want creative, interesting work. I want a job that supports my life (without it becoming my entire life) I want holidays. I want quality time with the people I love. I want slow mornings where I can go to a Pilates class that doesn’t start before 7:30am, as the world’s decided we all have to be at our laptops by 9.

To me, that feels like success. Not a certain amount of money or milestone that my current career goals may instead suggest I’m chasing.

But if that truly is my definition of success, then I need to start acting like it.

That means not chasing every opportunity. Not tying my worth to how many clients I have. Not assuming the only way to grow is to scale.

It also means celebrating the things I used to overlook. And realising that success doesn’t always look impressive. Sometimes it looks like a Friday off. Or a project that makes me want to open my laptop in the morning. Or just going on a mid-morning jog and finishing at a coffee shop to treat myself to a croissant.

None of this is to say that ambition is bad. Or that we shouldn’t want success. I very much plan to remain ambitious and become ‘successful’. But if we’re going to chase it, shouldn’t we be clear on what we’re chasing?

So I think the planet does need more successful people. But only if we acknowledge that “peacemakers, healers, restorers, storytellers, and lovers of all kinds” are successful avenues too.

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