I work with my trainer at the gym every week lifting weights, pulling cables and moving my body under stressful conditions. The goal is to tone muscle, reduce fat, increase flexibility and generally make my body healthier. At a session, not too long ago, I was working on my third set of repetitions when I just could not move that barbell another inch. I was done. I looked at him, with futility rays beaming from my eyeballs and his response was a surprising, "You did great! You failed!" Failure, as he went on to define it, is that place where my muscles can no longer perform and that ideally one works to failure to breakdown fibers so that they grow back stronger and better. Failure is optimal. The idea and feeling of failure didn't make me feel very good, but it did make me think. I realized that much of my behavior is judged against my definitions of failure and success, which has a great effect on how I feel about myself. What would happen if I could view my life from the vantage point of seeing failure as that moment when I meet my limits instead of when the world comes crashing down?
As part of financial life planning, I am constantly talking with clients about their definitions. What exactly constitutes success and failure? Professor Meir Statman, the Glenn Klimek Professor of Finance at the Leavey School of Business, Santa Clara University tells a great story about two men walking in the jungle, each bragging about their great speed and running ability. They suddenly stumble across a hungry looking tiger. The question is not which man is faster than the other; the question is which man is faster than the tiger! Before being faced with a metaphorical tiger, we are apt to define success and failure by comparing ourselves with others. For some, failure can be defined as the inability to purchase a vacation home in the Berkshires. But do these kinds of comparisons really serve us?
To some, success means not outliving their assets; to others, success means leaving sizable wealth to their children. Some define success as being able to make substantial donations to charity while they are alive; others feel that success means the ability to live within their means. Who is right? Is there a right and wrong at all?
Several years ago, I met with a couple who had accumulated substantial wealth far in excess of their expectations. During our discussions regarding their retirement, they told me that their greatest wish was to devote the first part of their retirement as docents in National Parks, living in tents and cabins, giving tours to visitors. They had obviously invested a great deal of time thinking and discussing these plans and I was riveted by their vivid descriptions. Beyond their simple needs, they went on to explain, they wanted only to live a modest life, provide some funds to support their grandchildren's education and leave the rest to charity.
Their plan covered the three stages of retirement and provided for contingencies. They had discussed their thinking with their three children, who were supportive of their wishes. They had selected the charities and organizations they wished to benefit and had prepared the appropriate documents with their Estate attorney. All in all, it was a text book study of well considered planning and of a family who was exceedingly grateful for their successes. Even thought they had money, their success was not defined by purchasing extravagant items. Indeed, that kind of behavior would have been a kind of failure for them- a failure to live true to their dreams and needs.
Not all families are so well organized, thoughtful or at ease with their planning or their definition of success and failure. Last year, I met with a couple that was also quite comfortable financially. When our discussion moved into the retirement phase of life, a topic that would normally open a floodgate of conversation, they responded with total silence. Not only had they not talked about it with each other, they did not want to talk about it with me. When I pushed the husband to describe how he envisioned his retirement years, he answered sullenly, "Boring, dull, torture!"
I accepted this answer in my most neutral tone, "Tell me more. Why do you feel that way?" He thought for a while before responding. "I never think about retirement. I have no hobbies or interests. I don't even know where to begin! Friends' of ours owns multiple properties and that seems to make them happy. I just don't know. I can't see myself owning two homes; I don't feel comfortable spending that amount of money. Our friends have a lot more than we do."
I could see the pain on both their faces- a pain that is most familiar to me. There is nothing like the look of someone who believes they have failed. What's incredible is how successful these "failures" really were. In having this conversation, though, these clients had taken the first of many steps on the road to redefining their definition of success and failure, a critical shift that would enable them to look to the future with enthusiasm, rather than dread.
Very often when we see people who appear to have achieved great status and wealth, we automatically believe that they are happy, successful and enjoying the bounty of life. Meanwhile when we see others living more modestly, we many not immediately recognize the immense success they have achieved. Many years ago, I was attending a high school graduation ceremony with other members of the School Board. When one child's name was called, a whole group of people in the arena audience started yelling, shouting, cheering and setting off air horns and noise makers. What a ruckus, certainly not in keeping with the otherwise staid ceremony. The newest board member (attending his first graduation) made a face in disgust at the obvious departure from proper decorum. In answer, the Superintendant leaned over and told him that this young person was the first member of that entire family to ever graduate high school! He certainly got his definition of success rearranged.
Bottom line: it's all a matter of perspective. My arms and shoulders ache today and I am basking in the warm glow of failure!
