Journey to Redefine Success

A couple of years ago, my life was fairly picture-perfect from the outside. I had what would be considered to be a "dream job" in a busy city, a nice apartment, a regular paycheck, and a social calendar full of coffee catch-ups, meetings and events. But on the inside, I was exhausted – emotionally, mentally, and even physically. I was constantly running a race to be more, do more, earn more. I questioned, "Is this what it's all for?”

I had been following an autopilot routine of celebrating external wins while ignoring my internal needs. I was spending more time sitting at a desk than I was with friends and family, more time scrolling than I was being present, and more time making others happy than listening to my own needs.

So one night, after yet another long day at work, and missed dinner, I opened my laptop to book a one-way ticket to Thailand. I didn't know exactly what I was looking for at that point, but I knew I needed space. Space to think, space to breathe, space to disconnect from all the "noise" and reconnect with myself.

During my second week in Vietnam, I was in a serene riverside town called Hoi An. It was calm, colorful, charming, and the kind of place that felt like a postcard had come to life. One morning, I stopped to buy mangoes from an old lady at a small fruit stall. She spoke very little English, and from a few gestures and lots of smiles, we had a nice little interaction.

She told me, with the assistance of a more youthful passerby translating, that she labored simply enough to stay without difficulty — a few hours in the morning, then spent the relaxation of the day enjoyable, touring with friends, cooking, or genuinely sitting through the river.

There was no rush in her words, no feeling of "I'm now not doing sufficient." She became present. She became grounded. And she was absolutely satisfied.

That second stopped me in my tracks. It made me mirror how I'd been measuring lifestyles — now not by using peace or cause, but through how busy I could live.

It is a way to overcome your travel control needs. You miss buses. It rains during the beach days. The plans are separated. At first, I was against it. I remember when I was booked, there was disappointment in Bali. I had a complete travel program and no backup plan.

But something magical happened that day. I lived in my guesthouse, shared breakfast with other passengers, and ended up talking about the discovery of love, fear, and freedom with a German backpacker and a local Bali artist. The unspecified morning became one of the most meaningful parts of my journey.

Eventually, I stopped opposing the unknown. I needed to know what was coming. I learned to trust that something beautiful would appear - and it's almost always done.

One of the most amazing things about a long-lasting journey is how little you need. I lived by the same backpack for five months - and not even, I didn't miss my closet filled with my clothes, my unorganized boxing shell, or my kitchen distribution.

Instead, I found happiness in simplicity: a good pair of shoes, food slowly eaten, so sunset without distraction. Minorism was not about depriving oneself - it matters most.

During the long train ride to the remote hostel and the cool nights I began to jorn. For the first time in years, I did not write goals such as "be promoted" or "SPAR for a new car". Instead, I wrote: Take time for the morning walk. Call the family more. Learn something new without pressure.

The journey helped me think again about what matters. I began to decide on such goals, which made me feel alive, not just a producer. I stopped chasing the titles and started chasing meaningful moments.

Before I left, I wore "busy" as a sign of respect. My plan was always packed, and I corresponded to peace with laziness. But after moving at a slow pace after months - woke up naturally, and spent hours walking without a destination - I realized how much treatment is done at rest.

I became aware that life should not be faster to complete. Taking a nap, having a deep conversation or sitting with your thoughts can only be completed as reaching your next milestone.

🌼 Little happiness, great impact

One of my favorite memories is to immerse tea in a storage room at the roadside in India, looking at the world nearby. It was nothing extraordinary - just a plastic chair, warm tea, and lukewarm life around me. But I felt more topical and gratifying at that moment, as much as I once underwent the company's victory or performance.

Success, I realized, is not always loud. Sometimes it is calm, subtle, and in-depth.

If you read it and feel firm or very thin, here are some ideas that I hope to echo:

✈ You don't have to give up your life to reset

Not everyone can take for months - and that's good. Even a weekend trip to a city nearby, a single growth, or an afternoon without a screen, can help you join you again. Use what time you have to stop and reflect.

🧭 Define what success means to you

Ignore the highlight of wheels and Udham culture. Ask yourself: How will I feel about my days? The version of your success may seem completely different from anyone else - and this is a good thing.

💫 Let "sholes" go

Much of our stress comes from trying to fulfill invisible expectations. The journey taught me that when you stop living for approval and start living for authenticity, everything changes.

5. Conclusions: a trip that has come to arrive

I left the house thinking that I needed to escape, but what I needed was to get back to myself. The journey not only gave me new tickets in my passport - But it also gave me clarity, courage, and calm.

Today I still work. I still set goals. But now they are rooted in balance and happiness. I care more about how I feel at the end of the day, which I crossed my two-to-two list.

Success, for me, exists. This is the time for those I love, a place to breathe, and most issues freedom to choose from.

And if I ever forget it again, I know what to do: pack a little bag, buy a simple ticket and get lost - so I can find myself again.