Life exhibits many ironic twists, but I think that our misapprehension of 'success' and 'desperation' have got to take top billing. The pursuit of success leads women and men into dire straights, while an exaggerated and misplaced sense of 'duty' propels them forward and blinds them from considering other alternatives. Whether or not you officially subscribe to the dictum, 'If it ain't broke, don't fix it,' the chances are enormous that you're acting it out in your daily choices. The problem doesn't arise from the pursuit of success, rather, it traps us because of our definition of 'success'. Imagine that a guy defines 'success' as being healthy, and therefore spends three hours a day, every day, at the gym. Is he 'successful'? Perhaps, in his mind, he is, because he's making himself as healthy as possible. He's completely dedicated to 'success' as he defines it. But, is he really a success? Unless he's a professional athlete, most people would have to say, no. Physical health makes up only a small part of living a healthy life. That odd definition of 'health' is what we might call 'Synecdoche': taking a part for the whole. There's the curse of success: if you're definition of success is inadequate, so will your pursuit of it be.
Consider the term that addiction counsellors use to describe someone who can 'hold his or her liquor' to the extreme: a 'functional drunk'.That's a perfect example of success gone awry. Often, alcohol addicts are very proud of their accomplishments — being able to dring large quantities without apparently showing the effects — and often, too, their social network is completely supportive, praising the individual for his or her prowess. In fact, these same people often ridicule those who haven't built their tolerance levels to such extremes. It's the curse of success: 'beating the odds' until, eventually, the odds catch up with you. Without consequences, where's the motivation to change? Without motivation, why would anyone do anything? There it is in all its illogical glory: success can often mean hurtling yourself into the arms of disaster.
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Beyond Change to Metanoia
Things have changed so much, but when I was junior and senior high school, we had to study a lot of history. At the time, it wasn't much more than a bunch of curious names, dates, and events all thrown together. The famous 'lessons of history' were almost completely lost on me back then. It mainly comprised background information that I could sometimes use to hang historical references on. Back then, it was all a giant time line stretching from 'back there' to the present. Somewhere, somehow, my own personal time line fit neatly into the giant whole. The wisdom of history would only reveal itself to me later on: a wisdom that came to understand and appreciate that time unfolds, not in smooth and consistent lines, but in convulsions.
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