You measure progress in titles, in numbers, in how far you’ve managed to climb from where you began. Then life does what it always does. It humbles, refines, and, if you’re paying attention, teaches. Success arrives, sometimes quietly, sometimes with fanfare, but it almost never feels the way you imagined. The view from the top is clearer, yes, but also much grander than expected. Somewhere along the way, priorities shift. It’s no longer just about building a life; it’s about giving one away in pieces that matter. A conversation with a young mind eager for direction. An open door where one once stood firmly shut. The realization settles in that legacy isn’t what you accumulate, but what you pass on. There’s a certain peace in seeing your younger self in someone else’s ambition, and choosing to guide rather than compete. In that exchange, something deeper than success takes root. Purpose, perhaps. Or maybe it’s simply the understanding that the climb was never meant to end with you, and that you have the privilege to pass along the wisdom you’ve acquired to anyone who’ll listen.