One of the best depictions of hell (that is, a state we create for ourselves) is found in Samuel Beckett’s two-act play Waiting for Godot, during which two men sit under a leafless tree waiting endless days for a man who never shows up.
Listen to the music of the young ones, the braves. They’re not waiting for an apology from the Pope.
If I am waiting for someone to say or do something so that I can be happy, then I inhabit a purgatorial state. Waiting is dying.
Success is not a permanency, a fixed condition. It’s more of an immanence, a moment-to-moment kind of deal. A man cannot become successful. He is either successful now or he is not successful.
Are you waiting for something to happen? Stop waiting. Waiting is dying.