The True Measure of Success
Real success is measured in moments and in the people we love
The Art of Becoming is about turning obstacles into opportunities.
I draw on philosophy, the science of resilience, history, and real-life experiences to share the best ways to navigate adversity, cultivate wisdom, and live with purpose.
Life isn’t about avoiding hardships. It’s about becoming someone who thrives in it.
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I have been thinking about what makes a person successful.
Not the easy answers posted online or what fills résumés, but the kind that matters — that can’t be bought or measured. The kind that surfaces when you’re honest with yourself.
Most of what we call success is decoration — something shiny we can mount on the wall or brag about when we’re older.
But the moments that mattered in my life had little to do with titles, bank accounts, or recognition.
Real success lives in the quiet moments that define who we are to the people who matter the most.
Let’s get to it.
The measure of a person cannot be quantified—it’s felt in the weight of their character, the strength of their love, and how they stand in the face of challenge.
“The measure of a man,” the English poet Robert South said, “is not found in what he does, but in what he gives.”
Yet we often mistake success for achievement, substituting trophies and titles for the moments that truly matter.
Success is sold as a ladder with each rung more desirable than the one before. But one day you reach the top and realize it’s leaning against the wrong wall.
It is not even measured by how long you live.
Iqbal Masih was twelve when he was murdered — yet the impact of his last three years, standing up against child slavery, outshines most lifetimes.
We are measured by the people we’ve touched, the good we’ve done, the smiles we’ve sparked, and the lives we’ve lifted.
There are moments when you know you’re successful.
When you make it to every one of your kids’ Little League games and coach their soccer team.
You help your children bake homemade cookies to sell door to door to support a homeless family sleeping in the church parking lot.
When your oldest child’s teacher said she had an intellectual disability, you gave up your career to homeschool her.
Their friends run to you, terrified of the boogie man they think they saw in the shadows.
You mastered changing a diaper in the backseat of your car or on a folding table in a plane hitting turbulence.
And after 31 years of marriage, your wife tells you you’re the best man she knows.
You know you’ve done something right when your 30-year-old son still calls you his hero.
Even in a wheelchair, you volunteer in your community and serve donuts at your church every Sunday.
You are the 3 a.m. phone call from a friend in the hospital.
Success isn’t defined by money or the prestige we think we’ve earned from a job.
But sometimes our work can bring us real success.
Like the doctor who traveled to El Salvador to repair cleft lips. The police officer who saved the life of a baby left in a kiddie pool. The priest who started the world’s most extensive gang intervention, rehabilitation, and re-entry program.
Their jobs didn’t give them success — they gave them the opportunity to serve. To make a difference.
We are successful when we show up when no one else will.
When we dare to call truth to power — and, as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. said, stand in times of challenge and controversy.
When we teach our children that what happens to one person happens to all of us.
You know happiness when you carry your child to bed, and right before you lay them down, they whisper, “I love you, Daddy.” Or “I love you, Mommy.”
And before your last moment, as you close your eyes for the final time, your children lay you down and whisper it once again.
The rest is fluff — just oil for the wheels when they squeak.
Thanks for reading. I hope you find true success.
Love to you and yours,
Michael