Let's Get Ready to Fail!
Writing here feels a bit like masturbation. I'm the only one getting any pleasure out of it. But, I like to pretend that I'm developing skills that will lead me forward in this whole new path opening up to me.
Recently I've been exploring the different and glorious benefits of failure. My younger days were spent happily making mistakes, taking risks, and having no shame in them. Sometimes the failures were personal, but sometimes they came in the form of professional rejection. Failure was as much a part of my life as breathing and I was happy.
The last decade, the Dreaded Thirties, marked a period of almost no failure. I didn't try anything with any real risk. It was...too risky. I was far too concerned with my Adult Reputation to dare anything that might make me look foolish.
And I've been rather unhappy.
So, as I inch toward 40, new rule: Fail Hard.
It's going to be a lot of doing, instead of trying, and actions instead of words.
I know, I said that before, but I, uh, failed to follow through. But there wasn't anything to lose because people expect you to fail. And we think of it as a bad thing. It's not. It's glorious.
One thing my non-risky life has managed to teach me is that I'm better off with a little embarrassment. I'm more humble, less judgemental. I'm kinder when I'm in the middle of the fray, getting my ass kicked by a life that's pushing me rather than lying on the sidelines getting kicked anyway.
I'm going to gear up for lots of heartache. Prepare to hear "No" or "This is shit" so many times that I'm immune.
Because, in the end, one time, one amazing, beautiful, time I'm going to hear, "You did it. This is the thing you've been waiting to happen."
But only if I start slamming my head into walls Metaphorical walls. Not real ones. Because failure doesn't require brain damage.
Recently I've been exploring the different and glorious benefits of failure. My younger days were spent happily making mistakes, taking risks, and having no shame in them. Sometimes the failures were personal, but sometimes they came in the form of professional rejection. Failure was as much a part of my life as breathing and I was happy.
The last decade, the Dreaded Thirties, marked a period of almost no failure. I didn't try anything with any real risk. It was...too risky. I was far too concerned with my Adult Reputation to dare anything that might make me look foolish.
And I've been rather unhappy.
So, as I inch toward 40, new rule: Fail Hard.
It's going to be a lot of doing, instead of trying, and actions instead of words.
I know, I said that before, but I, uh, failed to follow through. But there wasn't anything to lose because people expect you to fail. And we think of it as a bad thing. It's not. It's glorious.
One thing my non-risky life has managed to teach me is that I'm better off with a little embarrassment. I'm more humble, less judgemental. I'm kinder when I'm in the middle of the fray, getting my ass kicked by a life that's pushing me rather than lying on the sidelines getting kicked anyway.
I'm going to gear up for lots of heartache. Prepare to hear "No" or "This is shit" so many times that I'm immune.
Because, in the end, one time, one amazing, beautiful, time I'm going to hear, "You did it. This is the thing you've been waiting to happen."
But only if I start slamming my head into walls Metaphorical walls. Not real ones. Because failure doesn't require brain damage.
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