Staircase Chronicles: Progressing Step by Step

McKenna Cupidro
Sep 13, 2023
3 min read

Updated: Sep 16, 2023

What is success?

Why do we want it?

Can we apply it to all accounts?

When someone's dreams are to get married and have multiple kids? To travel the world and be alone but not lonely? Or how about those of us who wish just to step each day with fun and embrace friends? The person who doesn't want to open their own bakery but just bakes? Do the nontraditional dreams, when accomplished, get the same praise and title of accomplishment?

Let’s say all those people with very diverse dreams accomplish them. Are they deemed successful on their own accord?

I feel like the answer for most would be an immediate yes. It is for me; all of my closest friends have different versions, like those examples, and I would say that they are all on the path to achieving them. When we are looking on the outside, we see smiles, joy, and passion fused together to give us the relief that those around us are achieved. Unless you're still a grump who only views success as a tribute to their income.

So how come when it comes to ourselves, we never see what we do as successful? Why, once we accomplish one of our own dreams, goals, or whatever you want to call it, do we merely push on to the next? Swaying into the change without stopping to take in the glamour that others see shining?

I am a victim of what almost seems like self-abuse; I never seem to give myself credit. When I do, it's either forced because I am sure to leave reminders for myself (facetiming friends or texting my mom), or it also feels fake. That it’s at my disposal whenever I am inclined to dismiss myself. And I know I'm not alone. I see this in many of my friends, too.

You could argue that it is why it's important to have loved ones, but also, I wish for those who do, we could be better at loving ourselves.

Why must we always move on? A part of me wants to believe it is because of the education system. We were taught that good is bad, great is good, and so on, that we can always be better. It seems like a cliche, but sadly it's not!

Even right now, I have a daily reminder at 8 p.m. to read or write because if I don't push my mind every single day, then I won’t accomplish my dreams of being a writer, and that won’t be good enough. Each day, I work a job as a media strategist, walk, take a mini walk without any music or distractions, work out for at least 30 minutes, cook myself breakfast, lunch, and dinner, take a shower, talk to friends, create visions for the future (but not too much because that's also bad), and then just write. And even when I do all that, it never leaves me feeling satisfied with myself.

Think and write. Dream and accomplish. But never relax and thank.

A part of me realizes that this is literally just my mind, hence why I always have a tendency to joke that I'm a bit outlandish. Yet I know so many are the same. Good isn’t good enough, great isn’t good, and there is always better. It’s challenging, especially because it is a love-hate relationship. I both love and hate this part of myself, and I think I always will.

"It sounds strange in a culture where we've been trained to achieve goals, to get somewhere, but in fact there's nowhere to go because you're there already"

- Anthony De Mello

Because that version of me that reads spirituality and separates the Me and I from myself (Learned from Awakening by Anthony De Mello) while taking the time to appreciate being in the present, lying on my patio staring at the clouds and listening to the birds, loves the simplicity of just being. The gratitude takes full effect, and I thank the creatures, the trees, the air we breathe, and myself for seeing the joy of living. Embracing all forms of love.

All to push me the next day and feel disgruntled for not walking 10K, working out for an hour, and neither reading nor writing. To bully my own mind into being better because I was taught that laziness doesn’t achieve dreams. But to note that this instills fear and anxiety in my mind. Thoughts that trail the line of self-loathing; if I don’t get those dreams accomplished, then I’ll be even more upset with myself.