The measure of success:

I should be considered a failure.

Several things in my life I have attempted (or preempted my attempt) at doing something and have failed miserably. Some things I gave up on, others just plain didn't cut the mustard. With that being said, I should have low expectations for myself right?

Wrong.

I recognize that there are some things that I will never be good at, such as water polo, living in a midget colony, or ball room dancing. I do, however, recongize that there can be strength in admitting weakness.

This post is not about weakness or failure.

When I set out three weeks ago to Virginia Beach, I had a goal in mind... a goal which I had forgotten in the midst my "cover." Great stories and real passions, but not the true reason. My frustration and discouragement came from the lack of the temporal. No job. No place to live. One is bound to focus on those when purpose is forgotten.

Failure would have been leaving jobless, homeless, but still undercover.

Success is defined in my failure of all three.