A Student of Failure
If at first you don’t succeed, fail, fail again. Sounds pretty depressing doesn’t it? Not exactly a rally cry of the hopeful. Only, it just might be. You see, life is not about how we handle and revel in our victories, it’s about how we deal and grow stronger from our defeats.
Take physical injury, for example. Every time you get a flesh wound, your skin has a process of healing. First, it stops the bleeding. Then it creates a protective barrier to prevent more injury. That barrier thickens and becomes a scab. The scab then forms a dome over the wound until the skin underneath has an opportunity to fully seal, at which time the scab usually just falls off. Sounds simple enough right? Only, if the wound is severe enough, the healed area still bears a scar. And scars usually last forever. Plus, they’re tougher than the original skin that was wounded. Don’t ever forget that.
That’s cool to me, because scars tell a story. And it’s the same way with failure. Each time we don’t succeed, miss our goal, fall short, we learn something. Sometimes it hurts. Badly. But there’s never been a time when I couldn’t bandage my wounds, look back at my greatest failures and learn a lesson. My failures make me better. They give me motivation to try again. I admit, sometimes I don’t bounce back up that quickly. But when you learn how NOT to do something, you ultimately get better.
We are creatures that know how to adjust and adapt. We are also wired to avoid pain. And failure is usually a lonely, painful place. This is how we grow. I own all my defeats as well as my few precious victories. That’s life.
From early on, I remember my mom and dad telling me that I was going to be a doctor. I would follow in the footsteps of your great-‐grandfather who was a surgeon in Patton’s army in World War 2. In addition to him, we had a number of other doctors in our bloodline, so I was carrying on the legacy. And I was all-‐in... until I got to college.
That’s when I realized that I would need to pass complex chemistry classes like Organic Chemistry (I never had your aptitude, Savannah – I might as well have been reading Sanskrit) or have a high proficiency in math (not close to what I needed and nowhere in the vicinity of you, Jett). So, after a few failures, I adjusted. I adapted and changed my major to Health, Physical Education and Recreation. It was the one major where my pre-‐med hours would transfer and allow me the quickest route to finish college. Was I upset that I wouldn’t ever be a doctor? Yes. Even more so because I felt I had let the family down. But I adjusted and found my own career path. You know the rest of the story – success in business (through much trial and error) and, proudly, even more successful in father and husband – hood. I think I learned plenty from that failure and emerged even better than I imagined.
So, what does this tell you? Don’t ever stop trying. Don’t be afraid to show your scars. And when you get plowed over, get back up and try it once more. You see, failure teaches lessons. You will get scars. We all have them. Only your scars will read like chapters in the book of your life. And people like people with scars. Especially those who display them freely.
You know how much I like to lose, right? Yeah, I’m not always gracious about it. But, the more it happens, the more I understand the inherent benefit of failure (even though it hurts every time!). I’ve had plenty of failures in my life and you will too. Rarely is failure a good enough reason to quit trying. So, if at first you don’t succeed, don’t worry, persistence pays off. Have a great day. Love dad
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