On Success

For those of you Enneagram Enthusiasts, I am a three… I see you nodding, knowingly. For those who are less than familiar with the Enneagram, the Enneagram is a personality typology (one that I would be more than willing to chat about at anytime) and within this typology there are nine different categories or types. The type I identify closely with is the three. The three among other things is driven by the need to succeed, or at least appear to succeed.

I have a personality trait, quite possibly a fault, where I am riddled with a desire to avoid failure, a deep seeded fear of it. I know that this desire to succeed is not unique to me or even to those people who identify as a three. I know it’s part of our collective identity as westerners, Americans, etc., etc. But to me it feels very personal, perhaps it feels that way to you as well. We have been nurtured to value success and achievement. Efficiency and effectiveness are our driving motivations. We want the job, the family, the house, the car, the esteem, the money, so on and so on. We want the appearance of success. We wear our busyness and our achievements as badges of honor.

We have even decided what success looks like. In our jobs we have quantitative ways to determine our level of effectiveness, to gauge our success (even in ministry this is the case). In our personal lives we measure our “social successes” against others through social media, holding our doctored photos up against those of our peers; judging whose family or life is more “like-able” or more on track. Even here, living in a small rural community in Lesotho, I am guilty of this. More than I’d like to admit, I find myself mindlessly scrolling, judging my life against the lives of those back in the states, or worse judging my work in my village against members of my volunteer cohort and what they are accomplishing at their sites.

I need to succeed. Or, do I?

This past year it has felt nearly impossible to succeed, or to even gauge what success might look like. I don’t say that with any sadness or disappointment… I say it with awe and what I think feels like freedom. Success in the ways that I have defined it up until this point is not possible. Sure there is still data, sure there are still reports and numbers to track our impact and our work, sure the students I am teaching take tests which communicate their level of understanding, but all of this is just indicators of what we are doing together. That (all of it) is not an indicator of my success, of my achievements… I’m actually just witnessing it. Please don’t think I am saying this with any sense of false humility either (I have been guilty of that in the past). No, I am saying this because perhaps I don’t need to succeed.

Last week after a YEAR of washing my clothes in the stream with the other women, I was interrupted mid rinse cycle by a woman who wanted to finish for me, because I was too slow. I cannot succeed, even in something as simple as washing clothes I am still floundering. As I was leaving the women while giggling said “We are happy for you!” I believe what she meant to say was “we are laughing at you!” I felt as though I just handed her my pride haha.

On the last day of school I was handing back exams and as I called a student’s name to receive her exam the entire class in an exasperated tone “Madam… it is _______ not ____.” ON THE LAST DAY I was still struggling to pronounce that name correctly. The students see through my pretense… I can’t hide it, I cannot succeed.

Yet sometimes we glimpse what true success looks like, and we realize we weren’t even striving for it, and yet it found us…

In the country of Lesotho while primary education is both free and open to all students secondary school is not. In order to attend students must perform satisfactorily on a standardized exam given in Grade 7. This test either eliminate their chances of secondary education or it can decide what school they can or cannot attend. There’s a lot riding on this test.

My school has not performed well on this exam in the past. This year there has been a lot of expectations placed on the Grade 7 learners and myself. I have again felt that pull to perform, to succeed, to not fail, but it has felt like impossible odds. There are many factors which contribute to poor scores, most of which my presence does nothing for. I have been proud of the work we have done the students, my cooperating teacher and myself. It has been a hard year.

The morning of the exam I reminded the students that they are smart, they are perfect. That regardless of the results of a test I am proud of them and they have worked hard. I could see on their faces a sense of calm, of confidence, of knowing, itwas beautiful. As they walked into the examination room I hugged each child and repeated those words to them. “You are smart, I am proud.”

As they opened their exams small smirks appeared on their faces, one after another they started sneaking sideways glances in my direction. I could see it- they felt it- they were confident, they were ready, they were not afraid. In that moment and in the ones since I have not cared about what the scores say, what the report reads. Those children, looked in the face of something that could alter their future and for some, for the first time, they were in control, they were confident. It was the best form of success I have ever experienced,and it wasn’t even mine.

Perhaps I don’t need to succeed, perhaps you don’t. Maybe what’s required is that we stop chasing an ideal, embrace humility, forget the measuring rod and invest in the moment. Maybe our success is measured by who we witness succeeding, and who we help along the way.

As I fail, falter, flounder, edit my pictures and posts (I haven’t given up the ideal of success just yet ;)) I am breathing in the freedom of stumbling and sitting in awe of the possibilities that await in true humility.

Blessings in the blunders my friends, embrace it all, the success and the failure.

Salang Hantle,

Bren