What is potential, and have I failed miserably?

When I was younger, I never really doubted that I would be successful in my life. I have an abnormally high intelligence, came from a family that offered me a middle class background, financial and emotional security, and a solid support network. School came easily, and I was a hard worker. I was never tempted by drugs, other than the usual alcohol that nearly everyone goes through in their late teens to early 20s. Everything always came a little too easily to me, but if anything, that usually is a harbinger of success as well. By age 30, I already owned my own home, had a decent amount of money invested, collected art, had paid off my car, had a solid social network, and a decent if not spectacular job that I enjoyed.

Now, I'm 42. And most days I struggle to not feel like a failure. Most of the investment money is gone. Still own the house, but am unable to repair or upgrade anything because I can't afford to. Haven't bought a piece of art in 6 years. Haven't golfed in two. My car is now almost 18 years old, breaks down regularly, but I can't afford a new one and can barely afford the repairs. Have a job I enjoy, but it's only half-time, and doesn't pay very well. The foundation of my support network, my mom, died last year. I have a wonderful woman that loves me, and friends that are there if I ask, but I never really learned how to ask. My dad shows signs of dementia, I'm mostly estranged from the rest of my family. My health is below average, and most days I lack the mental drive to do anything about it, which only spirals me further.

There are days when I can't fathom how it all went so wrong. There are days when I just wish above everything else, that I could go back and make different choices along the path of my life. I have a 180 IQ, and could have gone anywhere and done anything. Most days I feel like the poster child for wasted potential.

And then... I question, "What is success?" And I go back to my favorite poem of all time, credited to Emerson, but in reality not his, and no one really knows who wrote it, so the credit continues to go to him...

Success

To laugh often and much
to win the respect
of intelligent people
and the affection of children;
to earn the appreciation
of honest critics and endure
the betrayal of false friends;
to appreciate beauty,
to find the best in others;
to leave the world
a bit better, whether
by a healthy child,
a garden patch
or a redeemed social condition;
to know even one life
has breathed easier
because you have lived.
That is to have succeeded.

And if that is what it means to be a success, then I have fulfilled my destiny and can rest easier. Because that is how I have always lived my life, and I think I've done a pretty damn good job of it.

I look around my life, and there are so many things that make me sad. So many things that I would change if only I had the money, or drive, or motivation to do so. I'm tired, and feel beaten down on far more days that I wake up feeling good. But I do not stay down, and do not give up. It is not in my nature to push myself, but it is not in my nature to quit either.

I try to make the lives of everyone I know, everyone I come into contact with, a little better. I try to make you smile, I will help you up when you fall, I will support you when you need me. I ask for nothing in return, because I was raised to help those less fortunate than you.

I don't have money to do any of the things I want to do. We haven't taken a vacation in years, hell, we can't even afford to go to the coast for a weekend. I'm on food stamps. I'm on Oregon Health Plan. I rely on the charity of others far too much. My shoes are 10 years old, and falling apart.

But, for every hardship, I am still thankful.

I pay way too much on my house, it's financed at 6.65% and I can't refinance because I no longer qualify for the loan I have. But I have a house, have never missed a payment, and have lots of equity even if I can't actually get to it.

My car breaks down, Sara's car breaks down, and we can't really afford repairs or anything new. But I have a car, and she has a car, and we can get to where we need to go when we need to get there.

I have lost much of my family, and many friends over the last few years. But I'm blessed with so many wonderful friends that care about me. I have more than most, and I'm thankful every day.

So I ask myself on a regular basis, have I failed? Is my life truly the poster for failed potential, and miserable failure? There are certainly people out there that would say yes. Anyone driven by career or money or any measure of success that can be assessed by what you own or the size of your bank account. In that regard, I have failed utterly. But have I failed? Emerson (or whoever the author truly is) would say no. To the people who look at success as something measured by the people whose lives you touch, and whether the world is a better place because of your presence, then I haven't failed at all.

The days that are hard are the ones where I measure myself by the former, and the days filled with smiles are when I measure myself by the latter. I just wish the world made it a little easier to always do the latter. I'm trying.

Thank you all for reading, I love you all.