PART I: CONVENTIONAL DEFINITIONS OF SUCCESS – MAGNETIC NORTH

People define success in many ways, reflecting their values, culture, and personal circumstances. Below are ten common ways people define success, each illustrated with a story revealing its appeal and potential pitfalls when pursued without balance.

1. Financial Prosperity

Accumulating wealth, achieving financial independence, or reaching income milestones

At 29 years old, he found himself curled up in the fetal position on the cold tile floor of a small flat in Italy. Alone, separated from his family, and utterly lost, he had reached what he believed was the lowest point of his life. The gentle Mediterranean sunlight streaming through the window mocked his darkness as he lay there, breath shallow, mind racing.

He had watched his dream of a multimillion-pound business crumble—not once, but twice. The vision he had pursued relentlessly, the future he had mapped out with such certainty, had disintegrated through market forces, poor partnerships, and his inexperience. The enterprise that once represented his identity and purpose now existed only in cautionary business articles and his haunting memories.

His house—the sprawling countryside home he had purchased as a testament to his success—was now a charred skeleton. The fire had consumed the structure and carefully selected furnishings, family photographs, and children’s artwork, transforming it from a house into their home. He could still smell the acrid scent of smoke that had clung to the few possessions they managed to salvage.

And there he was, desperately clinging to the remnants of his ego, trying to launch yet another venture to prove to investors, family, and himself that these failures didn’t define him. But instead of redemption, he had found only deeper isolation and despair.

The panic attacks had started small—a tightening in his chest during business calls, insomnia that left him staring at spreadsheets until dawn. Now, they consumed him entirely. His breathing came in short, painful gasps. The walls of the modest rental seemed to pulse inward with each heartbeat. His mind spiralled through increasingly dark scenarios of permanent failure, of never recovering, of disappointing everyone who had ever believed in him.

How had it come to this? He had followed the entrepreneurial playbook faithfully—taken calculated risks, networked tirelessly, reinvested profits, and pivoted when necessary. Yet there he was, thousands of miles from home, having fled there under the guise of “exploring new markets,” but really just running from the wreckage of his former life.

In that moment of absolute despair, when the very act of existing seemed too painful to continue, something shifted. It wasn’t dramatic, but it was as if a heavenly light and a profound epiphany arrived through a still, small voice that seemed to rise from somewhere deep within him. Clear, steady, and somehow both challenging and compassionate.

“What have you actually lost?”

The question hung in the air, demanding an honest accounting. As he mentally catalogued his losses—the business, the house, his reputation—another inventory began to form alongside it. Gina, whose love had never wavered even when his attention did. His children—Sophia, Marco, and little Ava—whose faces lit up every time he walked through the door, regardless of what news he brought. His parents, who had offered financial support and wisdom he had been too proud to accept—his in-laws, who had opened their home to them after the fire without hesitation.

He realized how his definition of success had warped over time, becoming a brittle framework that could no longer support the weight of his identity. What began as ambition had become an obsession with external validation, where his self-worth became inextricably linked to financial achievements and material possessions.

This distorted perspective left him vulnerable to complete psychological collapse when those external markers disappeared. His self-esteem wasn’t just damaged—it was revealed to be built on an unstable foundation that couldn’t withstand real adversity. The businesses and possessions he had accumulated weren’t enhancing his core sense of self; they were substituting for it.

In that moment of clarity on the kitchen floor, he understood that genuine self-esteem couldn’t be derived from accomplishments that circumstances beyond his control could strip away. True resilience would come only from recognizing his intrinsic value—as a husband, a father, a son, and a human being—values that remained constant regardless of professional setbacks or material losses.

This painful experience hadn’t just shattered his self-esteem; it had created an opportunity to rebuild it with authentic materials: gratitude for relationships, appreciation for life’s simple joys, and recognition of his capacity to grow through failure rather than be defined by it.

How had his definition of “everything that mattered” become so narrow, so materialistic, so detached from the true treasures of his life? When had he started measuring his worth not by the love he gave and received but by profit margins and square footage?

He slowly uncurled his body and sat back against the kitchen cabinets. His breathing steadied as he reached for his phone and scrolled to a recent family photo—all of them squished together on his in-laws’ sofa, the children giggling, Gina’s eyes reflecting a love that had nothing to do with business success or failure.

This wasn’t the end. It was a recalibration—painful but necessary. He had built his life on the wrong foundation, mistaking achievements for purpose and possessions for happiness.

He stood up on shaky legs and walked to the window. The Italian countryside stretched out before him, unchanged by his crisis. He dialled Gina’s number, no longer ashamed to let her hear the vulnerability in his voice.

“I’m coming home,” he said when she answered. “I’ve been lost, but I’m finally finding my way back.”

Five Years Later: A New Definition of Prosperity

Today, their family lives in a modest home a fraction of the size of their former estate. He runs a small business that employs five people, including two who previously struggled to find employment due to past incarceration. His income is steady but unremarkable by his previous standards.

Yet, he’s discovered a different kind of prosperity. He measures wealth now by moments of connection—helping Marco with his science project, listening to Sophia’s music recitals, and watching Ava take her first steps. Gina and he have weekly date nights where business talk is off-limits. He’s learned to value the richness of presence over the pursuit of profits.

This doesn’t mean financial goals are unimportant. They save for their children’s education and their retirement. But these goals now serve their values rather than defining them. The difference is profound—he no longer panics when financial projections fall short because his worth isn’t tied to those numbers.

True prosperity, he’s discovered, isn’t measured by the size of one’s bank account but by the depth of one’s relationships and the alignment between one’s actions and values.

Reflection Questions:

1. How much of your self-worth is currently tied to financial metrics?
2. What non-financial forms of wealth exist in your life that you might be overlooking?
3. If you lost all your material possessions tomorrow, what would remain that truly matters?
4. How might you pursue financial goals in a way that supports rather than supplants deeper values?