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Success, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. It has nothing to do with money...it has to do with getting what we think we deserve. That’s why some people are content and some are not: Those who cannot accept success in their lives are doomed to a never-state of limbo, evading happiness, not recognizing that it is there for the taking.
Philosophers tell us that success is measured by failure, or how else will we appreciate the difference? Cynics have their own measure of success, and it’s usually based on material acquisition. To me, success has more to do with what’s on the inside than what’s on the outside. How our insides are developed is key.
My insides were developed watching my parents, Holocaust survivors, exhibit the neuroses and fears of people who saw hell firsthand. My insides burned for vengeance, as if that could compensate for indescribable loss. My insides rejected authority figures because they were the ones who got their way with my condemned family. Teachers in particular were my targets as a troubled youth, and the term “juvenile delinquent” was proudly worn. Successful? Yes, because I wanted to feel pain, and I made sure that others in my world felt it, too. I was truant, defiant, incorrigible, and my school grades were at the bottom of the class. Exactly where I thought my tortured heart belonged.
The turn around came when my mother finally broke down in tears, knowing she couldn’t control me and was powerless to effect a change in me. I realized then it was my duty to give her power, and to do so, I had to give myself power. So I started studying, going from the bottom to the top of the class, finally graduating with multiple honors. Successful? Yes, because I knew I deserved what I had earned.
Despite studying the sciences, I ended up in business after moving from Montreal to Los Angeles. I prospered financially. I was driven to prove that the malevolent forces that still lingered inside could not extinguish my flame. To outsiders, I was successful. I had an attractive wife, two beautiful sons, and a home in Beverly Hills. Their measure was not my measure. They were looking at the outside, while my insides told me I had committed a fraud, and worse, it was against myself.
The only way to get real was to face my demons. Learn about what made me calm, secure, and if I could actually use the word in reference to myself, happy. It took years of introspection, a divorce, a remarriage, and a belief in the values only children can teach their parents, before I could accept who I am. And that’s the real measure of success; regardless of what others see on the outside, I know my insides will now steer my path in a successful, healthy direction.
Joseph Perlmutter, nee Danczinger, was born in post war-torn Hungary and became part of the Diaspora. After brief stints as a displaced person in Vienna, Italy and Israel, his family settled in Montreal, Canada when he was 5 years old. Joe came to earn multiple honors in biochemistry and genetics at the acclaimed McGill University. He left Montreal when the separatist Parti Quebecois came into power in 1977, and has made Los Angeles his home since that time. Professionally, Joe is interested in commercial real estate investment; personally, Joe pursues spiritual enlightenment. He is inspired by his wife, children, family, friends, mentors, advisors, and life experiences floating in a sea of positiveness.
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