I overheard a conversation.
Two ladies talking.
The first one complaining to the second one that her son, just recently graduated and earning super big bucks, had the temerity to be miserable.
“I told him,” Lady 1 said, “What’s your problem? You’re making terrific money. You’ve got a fantastic career with a solid company. You’ve got a great future. And you’re not happy?”
“Kids,” Lady 2 replied, “They got it easy and don’t realize it. Fresh out of school and they’re making as much as their parents.”
“I know, I know,” Said Lady 1, “I kept telling him, you’re so lucky, making all that money at such a young age.”
At that point I wanted to lean in–tell her, “Wrong answer, lady.”
I wanted to. But I didn’t.
Not my place, I guess.
A question
But what I didn’t tell them, I’ll tell you…
It’s a question, actually.
And the question is this…
When are we going to stop equating income (and income alone) with success?
Let me ask it another way.
Which would you choose?
1) A fantastic salary at a job that is eating away at your soul?
Or
2) An unexceptional income working in a career that lets your spirit soar?
What’s the answer?
A good part of the answer, I suppose, is rooted in your definition of success.
For many people, success is all about money.
The more, the better.
And never mind if you wake up every morning with a soul that’s slowly dying.
Is it mutually exclusive?
But the whole answer–I think–comes from Fay Thorncliffe, the protagonist in my book The Net Present Value of Life.
You see, in that book, Fay asks, “Why view life’s events as being mutually exclusive?”
It’s an interesting question, you know, because if we revisit those two options and apply Fay’s theory to them,
We quickly see that the true answer lies in choosing part 1 of option one and part 2 of option two.
In other words.
A fantastic income doing work that lets our spirit soar.
And that’s what I call success.


You know what’s kind of weird? Me and Steve Jobs are a lot alike.





