Always remember that striving and struggle precede success, even

The writer and seeker of inner truth, Sarah Ban Breathnach, once spoke with wit that conceals a deep river of wisdom: “Always remember that striving and struggle precede success, even in the dictionary.” At first, this phrase plays with humor—the simple order of words upon a page. But beneath the jest lies a truth as old as time: that before the sweetness of triumph comes the bitterness of toil, and before the crown of victory comes the weight of the burden. Even language itself testifies to this, as if creation arranged the order of words to remind us of life’s eternal pattern.

To speak of striving is to speak of effort, of the long and weary march through difficulty. Striving is not casual, but intentional—it is the will to rise again after falling, to reach further when strength is nearly gone. To speak of struggle is to recognize that resistance is part of the journey. Nothing worth attaining is handed freely. The soil resists the plow before it yields harvest; the stone resists the chisel before it reveals sculpture; the soul resists change before it becomes wise. These are the eternal struggles that all who seek success must endure.

The beauty of Breathnach’s quote is that she uses the dictionary—that ordinary book of words—as a mirror of life’s extraordinary truth. Just as the alphabet places “striving” and “struggle” before “success,” so too does life demand that labor and hardship precede achievement. This is no accident; it is a hidden parable etched even in the order of language itself. The humor disarms us, but the wisdom pierces us: success cannot come first, it must be born of fire, forged in the trials of striving.

History offers endless testimony. Consider Thomas Edison, who declared that he had not failed, but found ten thousand ways that did not work before creating the light bulb. His struggle was immense, his striving unceasing, but from it emerged a light that illuminated the world. Or consider Helen Keller, blind and deaf from childhood, who through immense struggle and the guiding hand of her teacher Anne Sullivan, learned to communicate and became a voice of inspiration for millions. Their success was not in spite of struggle—it was because of it.

There is also a spiritual dimension here. The prophets, the saints, the sages—all endured struggle before their success in spreading truth. Moses wandered the desert for forty years. The Buddha sat beneath the Bodhi tree, tormented by illusion, before awakening. Christ bore the cross before resurrection. In every tradition, struggle precedes glory, striving precedes awakening, darkness precedes light. Breathnach’s words remind us that this pattern is not misfortune, but design.

The lesson is clear: when you find yourself in the midst of striving and struggle, do not despair. These are not signs of failure, but signs that you are on the true path. They are the alphabet of success, the letters that must come before the word is spelled in full. Success without struggle is hollow, fragile, fleeting. Success built upon struggle is enduring, meaningful, and unshakable.

Practically, this means: embrace your struggles as teachers. When obstacles arise, ask not “Why me?” but “What strength is being built in me?” When failures come, see them as steps carved in the mountain that will carry you higher. Write down your small victories, honor your persistence, and trust that your striving is not wasted. For one day, when success arrives, you will see that every struggle was part of its foundation.

So let Sarah Ban Breathnach’s wisdom echo in your heart: striving and struggle precede success, even in the dictionary. Remember this in your darkest hour, when the journey feels endless and the goal far away. Know that you are not lost—you are simply spelling the word of your destiny, letter by letter, through striving, through struggle, until success itself is written upon your life.