The Value of Satisfaction

Success—A “Para-Gram” by Paramahansa Yogananda

First, carefully choose your work. If you have not yet found something that satisfies you, continue to search for it. You must like your vocation if you expect to succeed. Each day try to accomplish something, large or small, that you had always thought you could not accomplish. When you make up your mind to do something, do not give up. Success attained through determination and right action brings you more than material wealth; it gives the joy of accomplishment.

Satisfaction. This was the first idea that captured my attention when I pulled the 4 x 3 card out of the “Para-Gram” stack. Though for years I’ve been unsure of what “success” means and how it applies to my life, I always find comfort and guidance in Yogananda’s words, trusting them to awaken that dormant wisdom within me along the way.

In all the years I’ve thought about work, I’ve mostly wrestled with its meaning in my life, sometimes feeling secure and other times not. I’ve questioned whether I’d found my “calling” or ever would. I sought “fulfillment” in my work, something that seemed to be there one day and gone the next. But when I stumbled upon the notion of “satisfaction” in a novel of all places, I started considering whether a sense of “satisfaction” alone was enough. Could that feeling indicate whether I was moving in the right direction? From that moment, I began testing it, and found that in letting that feeling guide me, indeed, my path becomes more clear.

It happened when I was preparing to narrate the book “Insensible Loss,” by Linda L. Richards, reading it to collect information about the story and its characters. There’s this moment when the protagonist, who’d been working on a painting, has finished for the day. She’s observing her progress, staring at her creation, and a feeling that she can’t seem to name wells up in her. Her mentor, a world renowned artist, steps closer to her and simply says “Satisfaction.”

Satisfaction. That struck me. Is that what it is? Is this the conclusion that Linda L. Richards had come to herself as a writer? That feeling could be a light in the dark, a sign on the trail. And what does it mean? I often like to think about word etymology in my own way, so I’m going to give a really bizarre definition by looking closer at the word. Here’s what I see in Sanskrit and English.

Sat.

Is.

Fact.

Ion.

In Sanskrit, “Sat” means multiple things, including “true,” “being,” “existence.”

“Is” stems from “to be,” as a conjugated verb, meaning “to exist.”

“Fact” is a thing that is known or proved to be true.

“-ion” (suffix) indicates an action, state or process OR

“ion” (noun) is an atom or molecule that has an electrical charge, either positive or negative

Accordingly, Satisfaction is a state of being in which we feel the truth of existence radiating positively within us. We do something, we let it echo within ourselves, and something about it feels right, good and true. Something about it affirms our existence. It feels satisfying and nothing can take that satisfaction away— it’s absolute. It’s clear. It’s real. It’s forever safe in our hearts.

Satisfaction doesn’t have to come from some profound momentous thing we’ve accomplished. I feel utterly satisfied when I’ve swept the floor or when my dried herbs are about done in one of the glass jars and I refill it.

I’m reminded of the book “Atomic Habits” by James Clear (great name, right?), which described a salesman who had to make cold calls. He kept two glass jars on his desk, one filled with marbles and the other empty. Each time he made a call, he’d take a marble from the full jar and drop it into the empty one. By the end of the day, the before empty jar was now full. Watching his own progress gave him a sense of satisfaction after each call. With this strategy, he far exceeded his coworkers in calls and conversions.

James Clear describes this as a positive feedback loop, a key part of habit formation. He explains that when we see tangible evidence of our progress, we are provided a small but satisfying reward, which reinforces the behavior and increases the likelihood of repeating it. The progress itself is satisfying, very much like what the protagonist in “Insensible Loss” felt.

The positive feedback loop goes something like this:

1. Tracking Creates Visibility: By marking progress (e.g., checking off a habit tracker or seeing streaks), people make their accomplishments visible.

2. Satisfaction from Progress: This visibility creates a sense of achievement, even if the progress is small.

3. Motivation to Continue: The satisfaction becomes a reward that reinforces the habit, encouraging consistency.

Clear describes how Benjamin Franklin tracked his personal virtues daily, marking off areas where he succeeded or failed. To improve his writing, comedian Jerry Seinfeld, would track his writing and mark an “X” on a calendar for every day he wrote jokes, aiming to create a chain of days. The satisfaction of not breaking the chain kept him consistent.

I’ve tracked my progress in so many ways on paper and it helps. But to answer bigger questions like: Is this the right thing for me to do?, I started tracking my sense of satisfaction. How does it feel when I spend countless hours producing audiobooks that hardly get listened to? It's very tedious and I question whether it’s worth it, but other aspects of the work give me this fuzzy feeling inside - Satisfaction.

With Yoga, Yoga Nidra, Sound Immersions, I track my progress by observing the change in the room. What was the room like when we started? What about by the end? When the session is over, I can see the refreshment in all of our faces, our bodies, our smiles, the way we talk. The room and all of us in it feel lighter and there's a warm glow radiating from the group. That gives me satisfaction. It gives me confirmation that I’m existing, doing something that honors truth, and helping to uplift others.

While I may not have the “material wealth” part figured out that Yogananda mentions, I’m learning that satisfaction can be independent of our earnings. In “The War of Art,” by Steven Pressfield, we are prompted to ask ourselves: Would I still do this activity if there was no one else left on Earth? So, for myself I asked: Would I still practice Yoga and meditation? Would I still act? Would I still sing and play various instruments? To answer these questions I relived how satisfying it felt to do each thing, and found that yes, I definitely still would. When I've found that no, I would not, it's time to rethink my actions.

This “Para-Gram” on success has been something I turn to each morning for the last month or so. I take each sentence to heart. I try to “accomplish something, large or small,” that I felt I couldn’t accomplish and not only do I get more done, but I’ve stopped running from the things I was avoiding. And why was I avoiding them anyway? Because I didn’t feel I could accomplish them. To try to do something I didn’t think I could do—it changes me. It helps me see that I’m capable, and I go and do what I thought I couldn’t. I prove myself wrong and in so doing I prove myself right. How very satisfying.

When the protagonist in “Insensible Loss” pushes back and says that it’s easy for her mentor to feel satisfied because she’s been successful in her craft—she’s been rewarded for her art in both wealth and recognition, her mentor responds:

“That’s true,” she says. “But why do you think I’ve been out here and out of contact all these years? I don’t do it for that. I never have. I do it for…well, that feeling you have right now in your bones. It’s enough.”

To feel satisfied is enough. Satisfaction confirms the truth of our existence. And so long we “continue to search for it,” for the work that gives us satisfaction, the path will become more and more clear. If we shift this word around a little, so that satisfaction is synonymous with “bliss,” we come to the well known realization of Joseph Campbell, who said:

“Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors where there were only walls.”

To follow my bliss everyday and feel it in my bones—I don’t know what could be more satisfying than that. It really is enough.