Maximizing your potential - but which one?

The other day I found an old essay that I had written in college. It was a shortie - one page long - probably written as part of an application for one of the many scholarships I pursued to pay for my education. In it, I talked about my goals at the time. I professed a desire to run a Fortune 500 company and break down any remaining gender barriers in the business world. Great stuff, if you're trying to convince someone to give you money for college.

As I read the essay, though, I realized that the person who wrote it didn't exist anymore - at least she didn't exist within me. Maybe she never did exist within me. Either way, she had convinced me (at one time) that she did exist within me - and that her goals were my goals; that her dreams were my dreams. As I sat on the floor of our guest bedroom/home office/sewing room/doggie room, I was surprised to realize I didn't mourn her loss. Here in the US, aren't you supposed to be disappointed when you realize you won't ever recognize a grand dream like that? Aren't you supposed to do everything you're capable of - to set goals and then strive to attain them, even if you are miserable all the while? We have phrases like "maximizing your potential" and "doing all you can do" that supposedly define a successful life. And for some people, maybe this is true (especially if your goal is to win boardroom bingo every time you're in a meeting). But that begs the question - what does it mean to maximize one's potential, to be successful?

Maybe it's due to the proliferation of MBAs in this country, maybe it's because people dislike ambiguity, but it seems to me that most people default to a definition of success that is quantifiable. How much money do you make? How big is your house? (Or the classic male yardstick - how long is your schlong?) How many people do you manage? Even faith and religion can be boiled down to a number - how many times per month do you attend church or temple? How many times per day do you pray?

We tend to believe that this metrics-based approach to life is valuable because it allows us to compare and contrast ourselves with others - to determine where we rank in the pack. But it also focuses our efforts on that which can be easily measured - and to ignore that which cannot. Am I not "maximizing my potential" if I choose to stay home and raise my children? Maybe not my financial potential - but what about my parenting potential? What about the potential for a more peaceful, relaxed home atmosphere for my children and my husband? What about the health potential for my family, from more nutritious, home-cooked meals?

I think the main reason we measure ourselves this way is because of a lack of confidence. The part of us that is still in junior high - in the middle of puberty, awkward and uncertain about how we fit in and measure up - needs success in the quantifiable areas of life to reassure us that we've made it and we're cool and everyone knows it. Only when we let go of those insecurities can we decide for ourselves in which area of our lives we want to "maximize our potential" - and then it doesn't matter if anyone else approves, because we're too cool (and confident) to care.