Wellness at Work: Redefining Success with Balance and Purpose
If you are a Chartered Accountant or one in the making, I congratulate you. Not for passing your exams, but for voluntarily enrolling in a profession that believes "balance" is what you do to a ledger and not your life.
Let us begin, by making one thing perfectly clear: the pursuit of success as it's been defined thus far—i.e., glamorous LinkedIn job titles, sleep-deprived smugness, and inboxes that vibrate more than your mindfulness app—is a trap. A very elegant trap, to be sure, perfumed with "career growth" and lined with the plush velvet of "early promotions." But a trap, nonetheless.
This year's theme, 'Vishwasniya', meaning trustworthy, may seem a curious companion to terms like rest, reflection, and inner peace. But what is trust if not the assurance that a professional will show up, competent, composed, and caffeinated, not merely in form, but in spirit? Integrity without wellness is like an audit without footnotes: dangerous, incomplete, and prone to late-night revision.
The Big Lie About Success
As Janelle Bruland artfully points out in The Success Lie, success has been hijacked. We've turned it into a noisy, caffeinated monster—one that applauds working on weekends, glorifies burnout as a badge of honour, and considers a ten-minute lunch break as "me time." Bruland invites us to consider five modest truths instead: choice, intention, self-leadership, focus, and rest. Yes, rest. That scandalous, misunderstood state when you are not responding to a client WhatsApp with a 300-row Excel at 11:53 p.m.
The truth is, the old metrics of success—i.e., money, motion, more—are increasingly being replaced by a desire for meaning, mastery, and mental health. As it turns out, we don't just want to survive our careers. We want to like ourselves at the end of them.
Wabi-Sabi, or the Art of Beautiful Imperfection
Now, before you roll your eyes and mutter "Not another philosophy lesson," I ask you to bear with me as we travel to Japan; no visa required, just an open mind.
There, whispered only in the stillest of tea gardens, is a concept called Wabi-Sabi. It has no direct translation, which immediately makes it more elegant than anything in your tax textbooks. Wabi is the quiet joy found in simplicity, like a cracked bowl, a slow breath, the absence of notifications. Sabi is the grace of aging, of time softening sharp edges. It is the beauty of a life that has been used, worn, imperfect, but deeply present.
The Japanese, who have managed to maintain a bullet-train schedule while remaining aesthetically serene, seem to know that success isn't in adding more, but in subtracting what doesn't matter. Their approach is the antithesis of corporate life or practice as we know it, where the only things aged and worn are us, the professionals.
As young professionals, you will be tempted to gloss over cracks in your spirit with shiny degrees, appraisals, and bonuses. But Wabi-Sabi asks: can you sit with your incompleteness, your questions, your mild existential dread, and find quiet pride in the fact that you are still here and still trying?
Intelligent Careers Are Self-Authored
In An Intelligent Career, Michael B. Arthur and his co-authors offer a bold proposition: don't let your career happen to you. Instead, design it, like a bespoke suit. They describe three elegant forms of career capital:
- Knowing Why: Why do you do what you do? (And if the answer is "Because my father's cousin is a CA," please take a walk and return with something more... you.)
- Knowing How: What are your skills? Not just your technical prowess, but your ability to listen, adapt, and maybe even admit that you don't know everything yet.
- Knowing Whom: Your network. Not the 1,200 LinkedIn connections you ghost after placement season, but real relationships, like mentors, colleagues, and friends, who challenge and champion you.
To live an intelligent career is to redefine success as autonomy, alignment, and agency. It's not about climbing the ladder; it's about ensuring the ladder is leaning against the right wall.
Big Potential Isn't Lonely
Shawn Achor's Big Potential gently dismantles the myth of the solo success story. You know the type—the "self-made" prodigy who claims they worked harder than everyone else, when in reality, they simply forgot to thank the eight people who edited their resume, the twelve who recommended them, and the three who talked them off the ledge in audit season.
Achor urges us to shift from small potential—the isolated pursuit of greatness—to big potential, which is rooted in lifting others as we rise. His SEEDS framework (Surround, Expand, Enhance, Defend, Sustain) is a masterclass in building a career that is not only productive, but joyous.
"To live an intelligent career is to redefine success as autonomy, alignment, and agency. It's not about climbing the ladder. It's about ensuring the ladder is leaning against the right wall."
Defend Your Energy Like It's a Balance Sheet
Chapter 6 of Big Potential is especially relevant in your early years, when you are prone to saying yes to everything, from extra work to existential dread. Achor advises building a firewall against negativity: toxic colleagues, unproductive cynicism, and WhatsApp groups that only post "pls share excel" every two hours.
Set boundaries. Not the harsh, rude kind, but the gentle, resolute kind. Say yes to ambition, but no to annihilation. Protect your energy the way a good auditor protects a balance sheet—with vigilance, scepticism, and ideally, snacks.
The Urban Monk Knows Better
Pedram Shojai, former monk and current realist, gives us The Urban Monk, a toolkit for navigating modern chaos with ancient grace. He recommends practices like qigong, breathwork, nature walks, and conscious eating—all of which sound suspiciously impractical until you remember the last time you inhaled your lunch while fixing a TDS return and called it "multitasking."
You don't need a monastery to find stillness. You need ten minutes. A breath. A non-negotiable moment in your calendar titled "Me." Because if you can schedule recurring vendor invoices, you can schedule serenity.
Draw Your Life, Literally
Tony Buzan, father of mind maps, suggests that the best way to take control of your life is to... draw it. With colours and curved branches. Mind Maps at Work isn't just for brainstorming mergers; it's for visualising your goals, dreams, deadlines, and dinner plans.
His logic is simple: the brain loves patterns, images, and beauty. So why force it to work in dull black-and-white spreadsheets alone? I know, that hurt. But even we, as Chartered Accountants, deserve a splash of red that isn't a loss. Map your career not just with logic, but with imagination. Let your goals include becoming a partner and having time for pottery.
Final Debits and Credits
To redefine success is not to deny ambition, but to declare sovereignty over it.
Our profession rests on Vishwasniya—being trustworthy. But trust begins at home, with yourself. Can you trust yourself to rest, to reflect, to refuse the seductive lie of overachievement? Can you hold integrity not just for your balance sheets, but for your body, your boundaries, your being?
Let your success be expansive, not exhausting. Let your wellness be a daily choice, not an annual resolution. Let your life, dear fellow Chartered Accountants, be beautifully accounted for—not just in numbers, but in meaning.
And finally, should you falter, pause. Take a breath. And remember the wisdom of Wabi-Sabi:
You are allowed to be incomplete.
You are permitted to be imperfect.
And still, you are, magnificently, enough.