Category: Failure

  • Tiny Wisdom: Our Mistakes May as Well Be Our Own

    Tiny Wisdom: Our Mistakes May as Well Be Our Own

    “Trust your own instinct. Your mistakes might as well be your own, instead of someone else’s.”  -Billy Wilder

    A few months ago, when I was creating my book marketing plan, an associate advised me to allocate resources to something that I felt certain was not a smart idea. He offered a detailed explanation for why I should do it, but I felt strongly that it wasn’t necessary.

    I eventually did as he recommended because he was adamant that I should. Essentially, I decided his instincts were smarter than mine—even though this was new territory for both of us—and simply followed his instructions.

    Sure enough, this investment yielded practically no return, and at first, I felt angry toward him. Why was he so persuasive, I wondered, and why didn’t he offer me additional guidance so that it didn’t end up being a complete waste of money?

    I realized then that I was trying to hold him responsible, when the reality is that I am the only person with the power to follow my instincts and make my choices.

    There are always going to be people who think they know what’s best for us—and many times, they will be well-intentioned.

    There will be family members who think they know which career paths we should pursue. There will be friends who think they know when we should walk away from our relationships. It always seems so clear from the outside, but the reality is no one knows what the future holds and where our choices will lead us—including us.

    No one can know that walking away from one job will ultimately lead to something better. No one can know that ending a relationship will prove wiser than spending time trying to work things out. And no one can change that there is an element of risk in every decision.

    We can either take our risks based on other people’s instincts; or we can take responsibility for out path into uncertainty.

    We can only ever know what feels right for us in a moment—not whether or not it’s the right or wrong choice to create our desired outcome. This means we need to dare to own our decisions.

    We can best navigate twists and turns when we’re fully in the driver’s seat—but in order to do that, we need we have the strength and courage to steer.

    Photo by sharrattsam

  • Tiny Wisdom: The Gains in Our Losses

    Tiny Wisdom: The Gains in Our Losses

    “If you learn from a loss you have not lost.” –Austin O’Malley

    Earlier this year I spent dozens of hours and nearly $1,000 on a new feature for this site. Due to some misunderstandings between me, the programmer, and the designer, things didn’t turn out quite how I intended.

    Ultimately, I decided to cut my losses and focus my attention somewhere else. I knew I might revisit this feature down the road, but that would require more time and money, and at first that bothered me.

    I finance the site independently, and I’m not rolling in cash, so it felt like I’d just thrown away resources that I could have used somewhere else.

    It was tempting to dwell on mistakes I had made, and harp on the mistakes that weren’t mine.

    Eventually I realized absolutely nothing good would come from that line of thought—but something good could come from the loss itself. It might not have been the best investment for the site, but it was a solid investment in my education.

    I learned about clarifying my vision upfront, and communicating it to a team. I learned about expressing expectations clearly, and ascertaining that it’s possible to meet them. I also learned a lot about the tech side of things that I previously didn’t know.

    Framed from that perspective, suddenly it didn’t seem like a total loss. If we’re honest with ourselves, I suspect we’ll realize that very few losses are.

    If you lose a relationship you value, you could ascertain that you lost your chance at happiness—or you could decide to learn from that experience to open up to an even healthier relationship in the future.

    If you lose a job you enjoyed, you could decide that you’ll never know that satisfaction again—or you could appreciate the opportunity to start a new adventure with the knowledge and wisdom you gained from your last.

    If, like me, you lose money through an investment that didn’t pan out, you could feel indignant and bitter—or you could learn to make smarter investments in the future so that one short-term loss can ultimately lead to long-term gain.

    From jobs to loves to dreams to hopes, we’ll inevitably lose things we treasure in life. Whether or not we gain something through each experience is entirely up to us.

    Photo by brewbooks

  • Tiny Wisdom: When You Fear Making Mistakes

    Tiny Wisdom: When You Fear Making Mistakes

    “The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearing you will make one.” -Elbert Hubbard

    The other day I read that most of our fears can be boiled down to a fear of inadequacy, and, consequently, rejection. I know this is true for me.

    When I feel a sense of panic about the potential to fail, it’s really more about being seen as a failure. When I make mistakes without witnesses, assuming the mistakes don’t cause me immense discomfort, I generally rebound fairly quickly. It’s almost like a tree falling the wrong way in the woods–if no one sees it, did it even happen at all?

    I suspect this is true for most of us. A stumble that no one saw isn’t nearly as mortifying as a stumble with an audience.

    When you factor in assumptions about other people’s judgment, suddenly a mistake seems like more than a poor decision; it seems like an admission of weakness. It seems less about our choice in a moment and more about our character on the whole.

    But there’s something ironic about fearing judgment for being fallible, since this is something we all have in common. If we can just embrace our vulnerability and accept that our mistakes don’t define us, they can lead to a greater sense of meaning and connection.

    Most of the purpose-driven people I’ve met feel motivated by the need to help people with struggles they’ve already faced. Because we err and hurt, we can feel for other people and do our part to help ease their pain. And because we know we’re fallible, we learn to be humble, which helps us appreciate and forgive.

    There’s no denying that there are some mistakes that we wouldn’t make if we could re-live those moments. But the reality is that’s never an option. All we can ever do is make the smartest, bravest choice based on what we know in this moment.

    The bravest choice is to do what we really want to do, regardless of who might see and form opinions. It might not always feel comfortable to risk being seen as inadequate, but the alternative is to risk feeling partially alive.


    Photo by Wonderlane

  • Tiny Wisdom: How to Say You’re Sorry

    Tiny Wisdom: How to Say You’re Sorry

    “Never ruin an apology with an excuse.” -Kimberly Howard

    Yesterday I wrote about realizing that we don’t need to justify our feelings–but there is another side to that coin: we need to realize that having difficult feelings does not justify poor choices.

    This is something I have often struggled with. Though I have made massive improvements through the years, when I feel overwhelmed by fear, grief, stress, or anything else that hurts, my instinct is often to numb it or do something with it.

    Most times I consciously ignore that instinct and simply sit in the messiness of my emotions. My adolescence and twenties taught me that this is vital to my survival. But sometimes, when I feel especially powerless, I resist.

    That’s what I did yesterday after a doctor gave me some bad news, that may, in fact, be far less scary than it seems. I resisted. And then I went to a restaurant with my boyfriend, where one margarita led to another, and ultimately magnified my emotions.

    I made a bad choice, and then I felt bad about that and the surgery I may need to have.

    I realized after apologizing to my boyfriend that I also needed to apologize to myself. I owed myself an apology for using the severity of my fear to justify an unhealthy choice; and also, for being hard on myself instead of learning from the experience and letting go.

    That’s what a strong apology often does: it allows us to move on.

    So today I apologize to myself with no excuses. I used poor judgment yesterday. It’s humbling to admit it, especially since I know people expect more from me. I expect more from me. I also know this isn’t the most flattering story to share.

    But I am a work-in-progress. We all are. We can never change what we’ve already done, but we can continue to learn and grow if we’re willing to be honest with ourselves.

    Today if you find yourself making excuses for a bad decision, remember: what’s done is done, but you can move on and forgive yourself if you take responsibility and learn.

    Photo by kurisuuu

  • Tiny Wisdom: On Risks and Rewards

    Tiny Wisdom: On Risks and Rewards

    “Don’t be afraid to go out on a limb. That’s where the fruit is.” -H. Jackson Browne

    It’s safe. Familiar. Comfortable. Effortless. It doesn’t make waves. It’s what other people think you should do. You’re less likely to fail. Less likely to feel vulnerable. Less likely to question if it was worth the risk.

    Whether you realize it now or not, it is. We tend to regret the things we didn’t do more than the things we did.

    On my first date with my boyfriend, I told him over dinner that I’d always wanted to go skydiving, even though I was afraid of heights. And I meant it–someday. As in someday far away, in a time when it suddenly seemed less terrifying. Someday came far quicker than I’d planned.

    He told me that if I wanted to see him again, I’d have to jump out of a plane. So he took me skydiving on our second date. For days before, I considered backing out, especially after I tweeted about it and someone linked me to skydiving fatalities. Although I knew it would likely be safe, I was afraid of the inherent risk.

    What pushed me through was the realization that I said I wanted to do it because I did. So I took it one moment at a time. I focused first on just getting in the car–that was all I had to do. Then next on going into the building. Then next on boarding the plane. Then next on jumping out.

    What I didn’t plan was the last step–feeling more alive than I ever had before.

    I took the risk one simple action step at a time, and though it didn’t completely take away the fear, it certainly pushed me through it. It was absolutely worth it. Nothing is more satisfying than actually doing what you’ve always said you wanted to do.

    Get unsafe. Less familiar. Uncomfortable. Difficult. Make waves. Define expectations. Risk failing. Feel vulnerable. Be bold and courageous. No matter where it takes you, leaving your comfort zone–learning, growing, feeling alive–is always worth the risk.

    Photo by magical-world

  • Tiny Wisdom: On What’s Past

    Tiny Wisdom: On What’s Past

    “Stay away from what might have been and look at what will be.” ~Marsha Petrie Sue

    Everyone has something they might do differently if they could back in time. It’s a natural consequence of learning and growing.

    The happiest people focus not on what they should have done if only they knew then, but instead on what they can do right now with the knowledge they have gained. No matter how helpless you may feel, you can do more than you think.

    Today you will make hundreds of mini-decisions that will create what will be. You’ll have people to meet, challenges to take, and opportunities to seize. You can only seize those moments with a sense of joy and possibility if you forgive yourself for the choices that have past.

    photo by natashalatrasha