Over time, my definition of success has changed.

It is no longer about what you achieve, but about what you pass on. Because experience and knowledge only truly have value when they are shared, and when they help someone else move forward.

Living close to the sea has shaped that way of thinking. Nature has a way of putting things into proportion. It reminds you that nothing stands alone, that everything is connected, and that balance is not something you create, but something you learn to respect.

That same way of thinking finds its way into how I look at materials, technology, and the systems we build around us.

What we use today should not simply serve a single purpose and then be discarded. It should be able to carry on, to find new life, and to remain part of a continuous cycle rather than ending up forgotten in landfill.

Over time, you start to see that the same principles apply everywhere. In people, in teams, in materials, and in decisions.

Things only work when they are given the chance to hold, to adapt, and to continue beyond their first intention.

So I tend to move differently: Less focused on speed, more on whether something will endure. Less on immediate results, and more on what remains when the initial effort is gone.

Because in the end, progress only really matters if it can carry forward.