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.

In the great new culture war over Thanksgiving shopping, I’m neutral
Problem for schools: ‘stop students from becoming this advanced’
I’m not certain artists ever get to be themselves when they perform
I accept others’ amateur media, but I expect myself to be a pro
There are more of us than ever, so why do many of us feel so alone?
I used to ponder who I really am; today I just ask who I am for now
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