Better Than Success
My wife and I married late, so we decided not to have children. But as a girl hugged me during one of my book signings (see photo), that was the closest I ever felt to being a father.
I’ll tell this story in a minute. But when I was her age, I was fresh out of college, on survival mode, looking for a stable job with a surplus paycheck.
In my 30s, I was at the peak of my career. But something felt strangely hollow.
Then the rug was pulled out under me. Because of the Asian currency crisis in the late 90’s, I was retrenched. I thought someone with my academic and career credentials, I would get a new job in no time.
Well, “no time” stretched on for weeks, months, a year, two years. My savings went down to zero while my self-esteem went down to negative. I never felt more useless and ashamed in my whole life.
Through those barren days and dark nights, I resorted to journaling. Pouring down my grief and anger on paper saved me from going the deep end.
My fortunes picked up when I found a new job and married the girl of my dreams. As we moved into our house, my wife Lucy saw three-ring binders filled with print-outs.
“What are these?” she asked me.
“Oh,” I replied nonchalantly, “those were the journals I wrote when I was down and out.”
“These are good!” she exclaimed, “What you wrote should be shared with the rest of this world.”
Long story short, we found a publisher and in 2004, my first book Finding Comfort was born. It compiled some of my journals which talked about loneliness, disappointment, bitterness, and more.
Soon, I was receiving emails from readers who were going through similar emotional problems. Some thanked me, others were asking for my advice.
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That’s when everything clicked. I found something better than success. I found significance.
Going back to that photo, it was taken in 2018. My publisher believed in Finding Comfort so much that they updated and relaunched it. During the book signing, this nervous wisp of a girl came up to me and whispered, “Sir, may I hug you?”
She slipped away before I can interview her. But my wife and I like to think that the book made a difference in her life.
I have nothing against getting rich, driving a nifty car, and living in a beautiful house. But we are wired to be more than that. We are wired to make an impact on other people’s lives.
But here’s my real message:
You don’t have to be in your 40s or in a C-suite to pursue significance. You can start while you are young and mobile.
Don’t wander through life for ten or twenty years before you conclude that the ladder you have been furiously climbing up is leaning on the wrong wall.
Start measuring your life not by your net worth, but by the positive changes you are making in the people around you.
Start small, start somewhere, start now.
Once you embark on a quest for significance, you will arrive at something even better: legacy.