During an entrepreneurship class in 2020, I was faced with a profound inquiry that instigated deep reflection:
“What does failure mean to us?”
This question was prompted after I came across an amusing anecdote about our mother shared by a long-time friend (see below). Seeking insight, I turned to my sisters, my most trusted advisors, for their perspective. However, their answers only fueled my contemplation further. What is the true essence of failure? Is it an acknowledgment of defeat, a recognition of error, or does it carry a deeper implication—a negative self-image that overshadows all our actions?
“I danced with her at the Assembly and I was the world’s WORST dancer. I definitely stepped on her toes a few times. But she told me I was doing great and covered up for my mistakes and it ended up being such a fun dance. I still think about that every time I dance with someone.”
I’ve tasted failure in different forms.
A momentary lapse, like when I hit the garage door with our car’s trunk still wide open. The metallic clash and my father’s rebuke are both still vivid in my memory. Was it a failure or just a lesson to be more attentive?
More complex was the dissolution of a close friendship, a bond that had once been my lifeline.
Have you ever felt the sting of a cherished friendship drifting apart for no apparent reason?
I had a friend, a companion who was there as we traversed continents, our laughter echoing across time zones. She was my rock when I was enveloped by a grief so raw that it threatened to consume me. Her comforting presence was my anchor, pulling me back from the bottomless abyss of loss. Was it my failure that I couldn’t preserve this profound bond?
Two disparate experiences, both stirring different emotional responses.
Reflecting on the memory above, I can’t help but smile. A friend of mine, the world’s WORST dancer, was making my mother laugh with his awkward twirls around the dance floor. Despite his lack of rhythm, he always brought joy to the party. When he recounted this memory to me, I sensed a tinge of self-deprecation, an echo of perceived failure. In his words, though, “it ended up being a fun dance.”
I’ve come to believe that failure is not about the mistakes we make, but how we let them affect us. Many incidents we label as “failures” are just detours on our life journey. We falter, then punish ourselves with labels of being a failure. Instead, we should choose resilience, much like my mother on that dance floor.
If you stumble, don’t dwell; shuffle back, sidestep, and stride forward with renewed confidence.
Challenge Yourself:
- List ten instances you believed yourself to have failed. How did you pick yourself up?
- Engage in a dialogue with a friend about their perception of failure.
- Discuss how you can reconcile with past difficulties and find peace amidst trials. It’s a journey, but it’s worth taking.