I spent my 20s in an environment that heralded success as the pinnacle of life.
Our obsession with success has spawned an industry of people selling success education to unsuspecting, and often skint, people who dream of making something of themselves.
As my 30s begins, I can reflect on how exhausting that whole "success" world is.
Everyone is like a crouching tiger - always wanting to get something. But there's nothing to get. Nothing that can sustain happiness.
I regret missing family time during the last decade. Because some guru said successful people succeed because they sacrifice everything other than work, I began to follow along like some foolish lemming. This only made me unhappy. An unhappy rich person isn't successful, they're a fool.
But now, with the birth of my son, family time is the number one thing in my life. Nothing comes close.
Think about that next time you're willing to ditch a family get together to grind out another day of work.
Bertrand Russell once said that "one of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one's work is terribly important".
Truer words have rarely been spoken.