Thoughts on Success and Failure

Escaping the Narrative of Success

The words “success” and “failure” simply don’t exist in my vocabulary; I don’t use them to judge myself or others. For me, people are either beautiful or not beautiful (in an aesthetic sense).

I’ve never really cared about my test scores. Whether I aced an exam or bombed it, I wouldn’t be overjoyed or deeply upset. A mere grade doesn’t define me. Similarly, I’m not concerned if someone else has a “better” job than me or earns more money. Praise or criticism from others rarely sways my self-perception. In fact, for as long as I can remember, my core self-worth has been remarkably stable, never dependent on external validation.

Since childhood, I’ve had a habit of occasionally asking friends and classmates for their impressions and opinions of me. But this wasn’t to undermine my self-worth; it was purely to gather information, to understand the ripple effect and projection I create in the world, and to compare it with my internal view of myself. If there was a significant discrepancy between external and self-perception, it indicated something was amiss—perhaps extreme arrogance or deep insecurity—which needed addressing. If the evaluations aligned closely, it suggested a healthy state of inner peace and self-consistency.

For most of my life, I’ve enjoyed this relatively healthy and peaceful state. As for whether a particular endeavor “succeeded” or “failed,” I simply don’t think in those terms. Constantly using such language only traps one in a success-driven narrative, demanding endless self-justification. I want to break free from these evaluative standards and forge my own measuring stick—one that allows me to observe and understand myself, and to view others through a richer, more nuanced lens.

Asking Questions and Solving Problems

Once we break free from the success narrative, how do we act?

For me, the key lies in asking questions and solving problems. “Problems” can be divided into two types: “problems worth solving” and “problems not worth solving.” “Solving problems” can also be divided into two categories: “problems already solved” and “problems yet to be solved.” The first step is to identify which problems are most important to me—those truly worth dedicating my time and energy to.

Then comes the act of solving them. If a problem is genuinely important and deserves my attention, I simply take action, with one singular goal: to resolve it. Everything else unrelated to solving that problem becomes irrelevant. For instance, if I aim to solve the problem of freedom, then a particular test score, a corporate job, marriage, having children, or staying in my home country offers no help whatsoever. These things hold no importance for me. Wasting even a second or a flicker of emotion on them would be a waste of my life, so I simply won’t do it—I won’t even entertain the thought.

There are countless solutions to any given problem; the crucial part is finding one that works and is right for you.

Asking the Right Questions

If a problem seems intractable, you need to re-examine it: a. Can this problem truly be solved? Or is it inherently unsolvable? b. Is this problem really worth so much time, energy, and emotional investment? Or can you go back to the beginning, reframe the problem, and proceed differently?

If it’s ‘a’: Many people suffer from fixating on unsolvable problems. They desperately want to solve them, but in reality, there’s no solution. For example, some people try to solve the problem of death, refusing to accept the inevitable fact that everyone dies. Others try to force their opinions on others, unwilling to accept that everyone can have different thoughts and beliefs. Still others suffer immensely if people who dislike them don’t change their minds.

These individuals take themselves far too seriously. No matter how capable you are, you must respect the fundamental objective laws of the world and the basic principles of physics.

If it’s ‘b’: Many others want to solve problems but constantly ask the wrong questions, leading to perpetual suffering, internal conflict, and a persistent disconnect between self-perception and external evaluation. These individuals are either extremely insecure or extremely arrogant, or they swing wildly between these two extremes.

Their self-worth heavily relies on external validation, as well as objective metrics like wealth and material possessions. This is why you see some people become incredibly arrogant and dismissive when they achieve good test scores, earn a lot of money, or gain a minor position of power, only to grovel before those they perceive as stronger. This swing between extreme insecurity and arrogance, marked by constant comparison, means they never find true inner peace. Or they perpetually follow societal and others’ evaluation systems, striving for perfection in every single one—wanting to be the perfect, excellent child in all aspects, have the perfect job, be the perfect spouse, raise perfect children, be absolutely filial, and want the next generation to repeat this “perfect” process. Yet, they rarely take the time or energy to examine themselves, to truly understand what they need and what they want. Such individuals are often deeply unhappy, with a severe imbalance between internal and external evaluations, unable to achieve inner consistency and peace.

How to ask questions is an art form, and many people simply don’t know how, as schools don’t specifically teach it. While there are books like “How to Ask Questions,” people likely won’t learn just by reading them; this kind of practical skill must be learned through practice.

Of course, reaching a state of stable self-worth, self-consistency, devoid of arrogance or extreme insecurity, and immune to external temptations that might sway one’s inner direction—this level of inner peace—undoubtedly requires continuous practice and persistent pursuit.

It’s similar to health, which isn’t a destination but a state. It’s not about achieving all your physical metrics and then forgetting about it; rather, it’s about maintaining a good lifestyle long-term, and health naturally follows. If you occasionally deviate, you simply return to it. Self-worth functions in the same way.

When life becomes simple, goals become clear, and action isn’t overly difficult. Internal friction decreases. Life has its ups and downs, relationships come and go, but even so, the prevailing experience of being with oneself is one of inner peace and happiness.

On Creation

People, especially creators, absolutely need ample time for solitude and living independently. In prolonged solitude, one can achieve deeper introspection, self-reflection, and engage in more profound thought and creation. If constantly surrounded by people one dislikes, most energy gets trapped in internal conflict, leaving no time for genuine thought. If one spends all day with beloved companions, there’s a constant urge to blurt out unformed ideas, and deep thoughts dissipate into the air.

Perhaps some are willing to present themselves as a joke, claiming to bring joy to others, but the joy of play and entertainment is vastly different from the joy of mockery or trampling someone underfoot. Regardless, I want neither. If I must be known by the world in some capacity, I hope to be recognized as a serious creator—perhaps as a scientist or an artist.

I don’t wish for my existence to be trivialized by jokes. I don’t need to be elevated, nor do I want to be trampled, nor will I serve as anyone’s backdrop. I am simply me. I simply exist. I am simply seen. I don’t need many people to see me, because I don’t believe that’s true “seeing.” Nor do I insist that those who see me must be my contemporaries; it could be the next era, or the one after that.