How Did Johnny Cash Define Real Success in Life?

Success isn't measured in gold records or sold-out shows, though I've been blessed with both. Real success is measured in the people you love and the difference you make in somebody's life. That's it. That's the whole thing.

When I was a boy in Dyess, Arkansas, my daddy worked the cotton fields. We didn't have much, but we had each other and we had music. That was success to us — having enough to eat and a song in your heart. I never forgot that. Even when I was playing the Grand Ole Opry, I remembered those cotton rows. That's why I wore black. That's why I went to prisons. I never wanted to forget where I came from or who I was singing for.

The biggest success of my life wasn't winning a Grammy. It was the day June Carter said she'd marry me. She saved my life. I was drowning in pills and darkness, and she pulled me out. That's success — having someone love you enough to fight for you, and you loving them enough to change. Our marriage, our music together, the children — that's what mattered.

I've also measured success by whether I stayed true to myself. I could have chased trends, smoothed out my rough edges, become something more palatable. But I didn't. I sang about the things that broke my heart — the poor, the prisoner, the soldier coming home. Some people didn't like it. Some radio stations wouldn't play me. But I could look myself in the mirror.

At the end of the day, success is simple: Did you love well? Did you work hard? Did you stand up for what's right, even when it cost you? Did you forgive? Did you help someone who needed helping? If you can say yes to those things, you're successful. The world might not agree, but you'll know it in your heart. And that's the only opinion that matters.