Let’s talk about: Failure
“I’ve never failed at anything in my life,” he said, earnest and nervously giggling. “And now I can’t fail. I have a family and a mortgage.”
“But what’s the worst thing that would happen? Do you really believe you couldn’t recover? What if you succeeded?”
“I have no choice now.”
I thought, how sad.
To have never experienced failure means you are completely unprepared for it. And to put such incredible pressure on yourself out of a sense of obligation to others to the point of feeling like you have no choice? To expect failure when you try for something? I’ve learned something valuable every time I’ve failed. Every. Single. Time. In fact, my prior failures were instrumental in getting me to this point in my professional and personal life. I wear my failures as badges of honor and proof of my survival and endurance.
Are you afraid of failure? Is that really how you want to live? How you want to make your decisions? From a position of fear?
I often have surprising conversations with people in lots of different contexts – as a teacher, a workshop leader, a friend. But when I hear someone give up on the idea of passion or greatness or career risk because they are afraid or feel trapped, that just makes me sad. I realize a lot of people do this – take the unfulfilling job or less-than career because so many people around them say variations of “that’s too risky!” Or maybe the individual looks around and believes there is too much at stake to take any risk at all. And later, when that unfulfilling career becomes untenable and the person is truly miserable, those same chorus of voices resonate with doubt, determined to make the person remain on a so-called “safe” path.
Worse than failing at something after you’ve tried is to never try in the first place. I’m sure I’m not the only one who was told as a child that my dream job was too risky or there was too much competition, so I should do something more practical. I wanted to be an actor. A stage performer. And at nine, I was admonished that there were too many people trying to have that career, it is a hard way to make a living, it’s very risky, and I’m probably not good enough to compete. I chose my other passion, writing, to which the response was basically the same, but my drive and confidence as a writer (even at nine) was so great that I was able to assert myself and stick with that objective despite the constant naysaying from all of those “caring” people.
I often wonder why families, in particular, seem so driven to crush the dreams of their younger members. The only answer I can come up with is fear. Some sense that taking risks is a bad thing – and that there are some sort of mythological jobs that are “safe” and “easy” to get and keep.
What is your experience with failure? With fear? With naysayers? There’s a line in the show (and movie) Auntie Mame that I absolutely love: “Life’s a banquet! And most poor sons-of-bitches are starving to death!”
Are you going all in with the banquet? Or are you starving? If I could make a recommendation, I would suggest that we all need to live our own lives, take risks, try to follow our passion, and stop listening to the voices telling us to be afraid. Don’t be afraid to risk or to fail. Rather, be afraid of living a life where you never even tried.
Amanda Morris, Ph.D. 