By the standards I set when I was 25, I’m a failure today.
But if I had done all the grandiose things I planned back then — and gained immense wealth and power as a result — I would have been a complete failure by the more mature standards I set for myself today.
It’s a paradox. I had to lose everything I once valued — and I had to wander in the desert for a metaphorical 40 years — to finally arrive at a place where I feel qualified to even start living a life worth living.
I have struggled through years of what felt like defeat and exile. I felt as though I had blown my chance to do the things that matter to me. But something has changed.
I’ve realized that I am entering into my best period yet — intellectually, creatively and emotionally. I am finally where I wish I could have been at 25 or 30. I had to take a long but necessary detour — and I’ve finally arrived at the start of my life.

Tools don’t make you great artist, but tools can change how you feel
Taxation is theft: It’s time to take a stand about a serious moral issue
Will rising anger about personal economic pain lead to trouble soon?
I’d like to help change the world, but politics is no longer my hobby
A year after surreal experience of surgery, I’m still happy to be alive
Few things satisfy like giving thoughtful gifts to those we love