Related to his conclusion: in one of the areas I train in, there is a famous saying where celebrating achievements is just admitting and accepting your level of

Related to his conclusion: in one of the areas I train in, there is a famous saying where celebrating achievements is just admitting and accepting your level of mediocrity. Somewhere along the way I acquired a voice that asks, "Was that your level? Was that your price?" It's kind, but knows there's more. I do a lot of things, but have learned to achieve nothing. The high points I had where I got some fame and recognition are mostly embarassing now, because they remind me of my conceits that get in the way of ideals I intend to spend a lifetime pursuing. Looking back on the thing you were famous for, was it your best? Does it define you today? Have you left your peak behind and you are less now than you were then? Probably not. To me achievements mean nothing unless they were humbling and converted ignorance into appreciation and humility. It's a tough way to be, but it yields a pretty interesting journey. Sure, I have breakthrough moments. Getting code to work, getting a new piece of music under my fingers, winning a contract or solving a problem, forgiving the person I was who believed things I don't anymore, etc. But I've found expereriences are meaningless unless there is a way to share them to improve the lives of others, even if it's just to make them laugh, or perhaps to serve as a warning, often at the same time. Life isn't in your future and the reflected glory of your achievements, it's now, and you need to breathe it all in and exhale it, over and over again until you can't. I hope the author gets the opportunity to laugh at himself for thinking that his achievement of writing this for New Yorker was the best he could do. I'm pretty sure he's got so much more:)