April 2018

There were 2 posts published in April 2018 (this is page 1 of 1).

The F Word: Not as Bad as It Seems

My daughter asked to interview me last night for a school project. After thinking it over for a few minutes, I said yes. Nah, who am I kidding? I didn’t hesitate. Not only would I do anything for my daughter, but let’s get real—I like the attention from my kiddo.

What I didn’t expect were the type of questions she asked me:

  • Have you ever had a failure that hurt?
  • Have you ever had a failure that taught you something?
  • When you have a failure, how do you learn to move on?
  • How has failing made you a better person?
  • What advice would you give to someone who is afraid of failing?

Damn. And I was expecting something easy. 😐

Earlier that day, I had been reading Josh Waitzkin’s book, The Art of Learning: An Inner Journey to Optimal Performance  (affiliate)—which I highly recommend, by the way—and how he spent months learning Push Hands by failing at it over and over again, learning to take a hit, and being pummeled. It inspired me and helped me realize how important failure can be to progress. Josh calls it an investment in loss.

Having just read this passage, and the unexpected depth of my daughter’s questions, I decided to answer thoughtfully instead of just rushing through them. I’m glad I did.

Here are the high-level gists of my responses:

I have failed publicly, in moments that it counted, and still come out alive. It hurt like hell, I was embarrassed, I wished for things to be different, and I wished to hide. Being called out on it multiple times afterwards hurt even more.

The only times I’ve not learned from a failure is when I’ve let pride get in the way. I learn when I sit back and accept my humanity and shortcomings. It’s only then that I’m able to break my failure down into bite-sized chunks, analyze, and try again.

I’ve never had a failure result in any tragically permanent or lasting consequences. I tend to think to myself, “What’s the worst that could  happen?” And it’s never quite as bad as I imagine. Sure, it stings and you feel like a spread of fly-infested poop for a while, but my desire to learn and progress keeps me moving forward.

More than anything, failing has taught me to connect with other people and myself. I’ve learned how to sympathize with others because I’ve been there. I can relate to them and teach and ask questions. I’ve learned how to engage in positive self talk and maybe even convince my inner critic that I’m worth my time.

Understand that failing is okay, and is integral to progress. Yes, it can be scary. Yes, it can hurt at times. Yes, it can suck. But it can also be exciting. Each failure is a lesson about yourself and your process. Each failure is an opportunity to refine your approach and bring yourself one step closer to mastery.

In my mind, failure always looks like a big, bad, foul-breathed demon with razor-sharp teeth, ready to pounce and rip me to smithereens. It lurks in the shadows, in the unknown, so I sometimes try to avoid it. Yet when I finally meet it face to face, I realize it’s more like a big fuzzy kitten that knows how to slap you around a little bit, rough you up, and then help you see the proper way. Okay, that was a weird analogy. My point, again, is that failure is never as bad as it seems.

So, yeah, last night was a bit of a journey for me, learning about myself through the most unexpected of places—my daughter’s homework assignment.

Why? Because It’s Difficult

I think it’s natural to shy away from accomplishing the many items on your life’s wish list: learning that language, writing that book, starting that business, becoming that friend.

There are so many things you want to do, and in so many areas. I applaud you. You have a good heart and the desire to do good. You want to make a difference, you want to prove to the world that you matter; that’s awesome. Yet, despite these desires, you have yet to take action. The years go by and it’s the same old thing day after day, week after week, month after month.

And each day you’re still wanting to achieve something meaningful. You’re happy, but you could be happier. You’re living, but you’re not living according to how you want. You’re stuck, and you don’t like it.

Each item on your list has one commonality: it’s difficult. And it’s for that reason that you haven’t done it. You know it’s going to take work, but you secretly want the easy answers, and that keeps you from action.

If you’re tired of letting life live you, and you want to start living, then you’re going to have to start somewhere. Perhaps the best place to start is not proving to the world what you can do, but proving to yourself. Build your confidence by doing one of those list items. Just one. Forget the rest for now. Begin today, start small, you can do it.

Prove to yourself that you can handle the difficult tasks: The ones that require strain, the ones that push you to the next level, the ones that exercise your mind and body. Yes, the ones that bruise you, make you question your abilities and doubt yourself, the ones that force you to focus, reevaluate, question, and grow.

Do this for yourself. Give yourself the gift of accomplishment. Give yourself the power of self-respect, routine, and drive. Treat yourself to the gift of learning and knowledge.

Remember that all those small practice session add up. You can do this not because it’s easy, but because it’s difficult; you are capable of accomplishing everything and anything you want—everything that matters, everything that’s difficult.