When I was late 20's I was in the midst of what I now look back on as my depression era. Certainly not a financial depression because back then I had more money than what I knew what to do with, but most definitely a depression mentally and emotionally due to a really rough time from bereavement.
I often think back to one particular evening during this depression when I opened the window of my then apartment which looked over onto a large grassy field and stuck my head out the window, and I can still recall just how beautifully peaceful it was...
I wanted to enjoy it fully - but I just couldn't. The simplest of things to just take and enjoy and it should not have needed any effort, but I just really couldn't quite get there.
It was strange... a bit like a eureka moment where I knew that to really be able to immerse oneself into a peaceful moment and have that be absolutely enough, even just temporarily, where in that moment you've really found a sense of complete peace, you've sort of 'made it' in life. But how to get to that point! Because it was as though something so simple, should be so easily accessible but yet it really wasn't. Frustrating as hell to be honest with you!
It took me over 20 years to be able to access that deep sense of peace and bliss from sticking my head out the window whatever the weather, going for a walk in nature (whatever the weather), and to just generally be able to pull out this feeling of blissful contentment almost at will simply by stopping, and being still for a moment, and it's just as wonderful each time as what I sensed it really could be all those years ago. It's funny isn't it, the things you remember.
As trite as it may sound, it honestly wasn't money, a fancy home, the perfect husband or a fantastic job that got me there, and some of those things I tried and they all fell short - those things ironically often come at a price (or heavy compromise) in some way or another, which perhaps in some part explains why they were never quite fulfilling. And there's always the risk of losing those things.
I'm sorry for what most likely sounds like an awfully trite or cheesy answer, but this honestly is what success means to me at age 30, age 65, everything inbetween and beyond. It's taken a lot of work though.