A couple of weeks ago, someone asked me what my definition of success was, I had no answer. I had no idea at all.
I had heard other people asked the question, I thought I would have had an idea but I had fuck all.

It stuck in my brain, like when you burn the roof of your mouth and can’t stop your tongue from playing with it. My mind was swirling the question around, flicking it.

It’s different for everyone, of course, it’s personal. A hedge fund managers idea of success is going to be crazy different from a surf instructor in the town I live in.

I’ve got an idea now, it just means to be happy, to be consistently happy. I’ve been far from that for most of my life, I’ve had incredible moments and great times of happiness, but for the most part, my overall state has been miserable.

So that’s it, I have a goal now, and that goal is to be happy.

I can do that, I can achieve that, I just needed to know it’s what I wanted, now it’s a matter of mapping out how I can get there.

I’m working on it.








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