Dear girls and boys, men and women, we live in a culture that idolizes success. In and of itself, it’s not a terrible thought — to cherish the wins and the ups of life. But, this leaves us in disastrous places when it comes to failure.
I grew up hearing stories about Abraham Lincoln failing a ridiculous amount of times before he became president. I participated in almost every mainstream sport available and constantly had to face failure either in training or in competitions. It’s a humbling experience to give it your all and still have to face the reality the other team was still better.
How many times do we hear, “Don’t give me excuses,” when we try and cook up a three course meal and all we can present is a buffet of coal lumps?
Shame and failure have become so tightly knit together they’re almost inseparable. Students have panic attacks considering 3.9 GPAs. Loss becomes consuming when the first job opportunity doesn’t work out. Slipping back into an old habit sounds the gavel of sealed judgment.
When did, “if at first you don’t succeed, try and try again,” become “if at first you don’t succeed, there’s no way you should try a second time?”
Obviously this doesn’t speak to everyone, but as I’ve been thrown into a completely new scenario I’ve begun to realize how much I pride myself in understanding. As a simplistic realistic thinker, I’ve had to apply myself to philosophy for the first time while confronting worldviews and learning to identify a handful. I had to write a paper on identifying a worldview in a film. Sitting hunched over my laptop at 8:30 PM after a night class, exhausted and brain dead, I stared at the blinking cursor and realized I had absolutely no idea what or how I needed to construct airy concepts into concrete black and white statements. For the first time in my academic career, I sighed and knowingly did my best, but accepted I may not get a good mark, and proceeded to write it out as best I could.
At 21 years old, I am finally grasping what it means to learn — how admitting the inability to understand opens doors to growth, humility and confidence. For the first time, I understand failure isn't a reflection of my character. It's not the fact I am unintelligent, uncreative, or am incapable of learning.
I came to understood my life as I know it is a mess. We spend so much time, especially in American culture, slamming ourselves into a breakneck pace of understanding, pushing ourselves to the breaking point achieving it, taking a deep breath of success…and doing it all over again. We fail to comprehend the beauty of failure. It doesn't feel good to not achieve high grades, or that one award which showcases our athletic prowess, or not get the job, or have an invention fail, or not receive recognition for hard and good work.
Attaching fulfillment to success leaves only one set of emotions for failure — fear. Shame. Regret. Disappointment. There is no room for learning, and if there is, it’s paired with embarrassment. Failure, instead of a learning cturve, becomes a black mark on a clean record. Positivity is excruciatingly difficult to dredge up from our toes.
Now on my rickety bridge towards looking at failure as a postive thing (even when it doesn't feel great) I find my scriptural encouragement from Psalm 73:26:
"My flesh and heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."
I'll admit, I'm new at this too. I'm used to emotionally beating myself up in a dark alleyway whenever I failed to accomplish a task, or don't think I meet my own personal (and frankly barely achievable) standard of success. This new mindset is a saving grace from God's ever loving hand and his kindness. It doesn't mean anxiety doesn't come hunting when I fail. It was a bitter experience to feel as if I've failed. When darkness seeps into the corners of my brain and my new brightened and hopeful perspective of failure is dampened, I cling to John 14:27:
"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid."
Failure, dear readers, is a beautiful thing. It reveals who we are when things don't go our way. It paints a picture of what not to do; it points us in the right direction. Chin up, and next time you royally biff it, look for the ways it makes you better.
Cheers.
