Making It

The notion of “making it” is, in many ways, a double-edged sword—seductive in its promise, yet perilous in its consequences.

We are taught to believe that “making it” is the ultimate destination, the summit toward which all effort is directed. And if that’s the case, then surely the feeling of having made it should be the prize we seek as well. Yet here lies the paradox: the moment we truly believe we’ve arrived, the fire that once propelled us forward begins to dim. Drive fades, and with it, the engine of achievement. On the other hand, living in a state of relentless striving—constantly measuring ourselves against others—can be equally corrosive. When ambition becomes an unbroken cycle of comparison, we risk losing sight of what we are actually striving for. And if the journey loses its meaning, what, then, is the point of the race?

Consider this: you have almost certainly accomplished things that the version of you from a decade ago would marvel at with unfiltered gratitude and joy. If that earlier self could step into your present life, they might see it as nothing short of a dream fulfilled. Yet how often do we pause to acknowledge this? Even among the most celebrated entrepreneurs, self-made billionaires, and high achievers, there is a common trap—forever chasing the next milestone, forever glancing sideways at someone who has gone further, faster, higher. In doing so, they rarely allow themselves the luxury of savoring the victories they’ve already won.

It’s worth remembering that admiration is a two-way mirror. Just as you look up to certain people and their accomplishments, there are others—perhaps many—who look at you with the same sense of awe. To them, you are the embodiment of “making it,” even if you struggle to see it yourself.

As with most things in life, the answer does not lie in extremes. The old wisdom holds true: “If the string is too tight, it will snap; if it’s too loose, it will not play.” The art is in finding the tension that allows the music to resonate. Take deliberate moments to step back, to see your life in perspective, and to recognize—deeply—that in the eyes of your past self, and in the eyes of many others, you have already arrived. What you have built, endured, and achieved is nothing short of extraordinary.

Yet, even in that recognition, guard your humility and your hunger. No matter how far you climb, there will always be someone more skilled, more insightful, more accomplished. This truth need not be a source of discouragement; rather, it can be a source of exhilaration. It is a reminder that the game is infinite—that there is always more to learn, more to create, more to become. And in that endless pursuit lies the real joy: not in “making it” once and for all, but in continually remaking yourself, again and again, at ever higher levels of mastery.