At least success as defined by conventional norms like material success, professional success, or even success in a competitive sport. In short anything that ranks people by the order in which they arrive at the finish line.
For the best kept secret of life is that there is no finish line.
Success therefore can only be fleeting and relative. At best it is a temporary pitstop in a long journey. Life is much bigger than a rank order.
To treat success with anything more than a fleeting nod of acknowledgment is therefore a failure of the imagination.
Paradoxically perhaps, the acknowledgement that success is short-lived does not induce melancholy; quite the opposite. For when you realise that success is fleeting rather than a desination, its nemesis - failure - is also relegated to the same fate. And so, without the greed of some final epic success, and without the fear of some catastrophic, permanent failure, the imagination is finally set free to journey on.