The word itself holds a lot of power. We consider it to be a grand and definite image in the back of our minds, always reaching towards it. And if we don't get to it, it's as if we're losing at life.
Success.
For the most part, I think everyone has their personal idea of what success entails, and it usually looks something along the lines of a professional job, a fancy car, a huge house, and not to mention having a great deal of money to show for it.
I won't deny though, if someone asked me if I consider myself to be successful, I'd laugh and say no. My name isn't sprawled across newspapers and magazines, I don't get recognized on the streets by strangers, and I'm not the CEO of some big corporate business. But do having those things get you success? Society has groomed us to follow a clear-cut path towards it, but if I'm being honest, I don't think success really exists, or better put, I don't think those are the things we should associate success with. We shouldn't have to measure milestones based on success, because in a way it makes us lose sense of the little things, like giving a friend advice or finally figuring out how to do a math problem. The older we get, the more pressure we feel to be "successful," and the harder it becomes to appreciate the minuscule aspects of life.
It's almost second nature that we zip through all these little accomplishments in order to achieve something tremendous, like a fulfilling job or a stable relationship, that we end up rushing past all the things happening around us in one swift motion. In his Youtube video "You Will Be Forgotten...And That's OK," Hank Green notably claims, what I believe to be one of the great truths of life, "You get successes, but you don't get success." We may not realize it, but small and seemingly insignificant achievements do indeed equate success, and I think those end up being the most impactful.
We can't follow directions for success, because it isn't a destination. Success doesn't come from something big you achieved, it comes in tiny forms, that come, more often than not, unnoticed.