I figured out, I guess, that the job just makes me happy if it's

The words of Thomas Kretschmann ring with the wisdom of one who has wrestled with ambition and emerged with clarity: “I figured out, I guess, that the job just makes me happy if it’s not number one. So if it all works, great. If it doesn’t, I still go home, look at my kids, and I have a big smile on my face.” Here we hear not the boast of conquest, but the quiet strength of balance. For man is not made whole by work alone; he is completed by love, by kin, by the laughter that waits for him at home.

This teaching is subtle yet profound: the job, though a source of pride and sustenance, is not to be enthroned as the master of life. To place it as number one is to risk becoming its slave, measuring all worth by success or failure. But when work is placed in its rightful place—as a craft, a duty, a means of service—then even its failures cannot rob the soul of joy. For the truest crown is not found upon the stage or in the ledger, but in the eyes of those who greet us with love at day’s end.

The ancients themselves knew this truth. Marcus Aurelius, emperor of Rome, bore the weight of empire and the countless affairs of war and governance. Yet in his Meditations, he often spoke of the warmth of his children, the quiet moments with his family, and the joy of simple bonds. Though he was master of armies and states, he knew that the empire could not give him what the tender hand of his son could. In this balance lay his strength: to rule a world, yet never forget that he was first a father, a man of flesh and love.

Consider also the story of George Washington. Though he commanded armies and became the first president of a new nation, his greatest wish, spoken often, was to return to Mount Vernon, to walk his lands, to be among family and kin. For even he, whom history names great, recognized that life’s true glory was not in endless striving for victory, but in the peace of home, the smile of loved ones, and the quiet rhythm of family life. His work was mighty, but it was not number one.

What Kretschmann declares is a shield against despair. If the job is supreme, then every stumble is disaster, every failure a wound to the soul. But if the heart has its foundation in love—in one’s children, in the sanctity of home—then no professional defeat can overthrow peace. Thus the man or woman who holds family above ambition becomes unshakable: for work may rise or fall, but love endures.

This is no call to despise labor. On the contrary, when the job is freed from being number one, it becomes a wellspring of joy. Success no longer binds us in chains of fear, and failure no longer drags us into despair. Work becomes play, a craft pursued with passion but not desperation. And in this spirit, even toil is sweet, for it no longer claims the throne of the soul.

Therefore, let this be your lesson: treasure your family above all, for they are the anchor that holds you steady in life’s storm. Place your job where it belongs—not as master, but as servant. Strive well, do your best, pursue excellence, but do not give it the crown of your heart. Each evening, when the day’s battles are over, return to those you love, look upon their faces, and allow the smile to rise within you. For that smile is worth more than all the trophies of ambition.

And so I say to you: let your job be your duty, but let your family be your sanctuary. In this way you shall live in balance, unbroken by failure, unblinded by success, and forever sustained by the eternal gifts of love and home.