Success is a powerful word — the light at the end of the tunnel, the ultimate goal, the fulfilment of one's potential, the achievement of one's dream. We do literally impossible things to achieve success, we jump through flaming hoops, and climb mountains, and endure all flavours of pain for success.

Because success represents the finale, the happily-ever-after that crowns your hard work and makes you feel good. Success can look like a certificate, a trophy, a medal, a house, a business, money, stuff like that. Success isn't very common for the vast majority of people, so people tend to comfort themselves with the idea of it. One day, we'll get there. And we win.

You've already won. You've won countless times probably, but it's easy to immediately move on to the next goal — because the ultimate goal is essentially an entity formed of successively chained goals. I win this, and then I win this, and then I win this, so on and so on, until you reach the end. As far as I know, there is no end. There's always another step, another ladder to climb, another goal to score.

I grappled with this paradox in my poem — Stairway to Heaven. And sitting with it — the endless staircase, the goalpost that always moves — I realised I was asking the wrong question. Not when do I arrive? but who do I become on the way? Because if there's no finish line, success can't live at the finish line. It has to live in you.

So what would that actually look like? I've come to the conclusion that success is made up of — not three — yes, it's always three — three components:

1. Problem-solving consistency — The problems keep coming as they do. Gaia loves you, so she wouldn't want you to be bored of course. But here's the thing — most people crumble under pressure not because the problem is too hard, but because they haven't built the habit of solving. And that habit is built through consistent productivity — not the frantic, deadline-driven kind, but the quiet, steady kind. The kind where you're always building something, always sharpening a tool, always adding a new weapon to your arsenal — not because a crisis demands it, but because that's just what you do on a Tuesday. So that when the crisis does arrive, you're not scrambling to catch up. You're already ahead. Consistency isn't talent. It's the workshop you build in the calm, so that when something breaks, you already have everything you need to fix it. Build that workshop long enough, and your capacity to solve problems starts to outpace the rate they arrive. Over and over and over and over again. Pretty cool, right?

2. Authentic adaptability — Your circumstances will change, over and over and over and over again. The walls will shift, you will meet uncertainty, you will meet people, you will lose people — but you can become the right person for any and every circumstance, while simultaneously being authentically yourself in your fullest and deepest sense. Not a chameleon. Not a pushover. Just someone so rooted in who they are that any environment becomes workable.

3. Room for growth — Despite being entirely content and happy, resting on your capacity for excellence in any and every circumstance, you always have room to increase the difficulty level of your life if you so please — and increase your powers accordingly. There is always room for growth, whether you choose it, or the world chooses it for you.

Once these three things stop being goals and start being who you are — success ceases to be an unattainable future. It becomes your everyday. Your average Tuesday.