Five days ago, we began with a simple question: How do you measure potential?

Over the course of this week, Sydney Carton has challenged us to reconsider what potential really means.

We met a man whose careless appearance concealed remarkable intelligence. We watched him make observations that others overlooked, only to receive little recognition for his contributions.

We discovered a man who recognized in Charles Darnay a reflection of what he might have become, yet seemed unwilling or unable to pursue that possibility.

We examined his relationship with Mr. Stryver and considered what it means to become a jackal: someone who possesses the ability to contribute to another person’s success while neglecting the pursuit of his own.

Finally, we learned that Carton’s habits began long before his professional career. Even as a schoolboy, he devoted his abilities to completing the work of others while neglecting his own.

Carton attributes some of his disappointments to bad luck. Perhaps circumstances have indeed worked against him. But his own admissions suggest that his choices and habits have also played a significant role.

What have we learned about potential?

Perhaps the most important lesson is that potential and achievement are not the same thing.

Natural ability may determine what we are capable of accomplishing, but it does not guarantee that we will accomplish it.

Opportunity matters. Ambition matters. Discipline matters. Our habits matter. And perhaps most importantly, what we believe about ourselves influences what we are willing to attempt.

We should also recognize that helping others succeed is not a failure. There is nothing inherently wrong with being a jackal. The danger arises when we become so accustomed to advancing the ambitions of others that we abandon our own.

Sydney Carton is not a man without potential. He is a man who has allowed the distance between his abilities and his accomplishments to grow increasingly wide.

And he knows it.

That may be the most troubling aspect of his character. Carton is not ignorant of what he might have become. He recognizes the difference between the man he is and the man he could have been.

Yet recognition has not produced change.

As we conclude our first week, consider one final question:

What is the value of recognizing our potential if that recognition never changes how we live?

We began this week asking how potential should be measured. Perhaps we should end it by asking how potential should be used.

Our abilities are not accomplishments. Our ambitions are not achievements. And our intentions are not actions.

We cannot control every circumstance or opportunity that comes our way. But we can examine our habits, challenge the limitations we have accepted, and make deliberate choices about the people we hope to become.