So, whenever I try new things, all of my buttons get pushed.
It's so soothing to stay in my comfort zone and do what I know I'm good at.
But conversely, there's a slow, bleeding line between comfort and complacency. And then a gradient between complacency and feeling checked out, numb to life, being a bit like the walking dead.
And there's a corresponding bell-curve of a new direction: the thrill of anticipation between starting a new venture, the agonizing build to that first brush with understanding, the hint of mastery to come.
And then the inevitable disappointment, the mistakes, the faltering and the falling, the failing that blossoms into deeper understanding and mastery.
I'm a recovering perfectionist. When I meet clients who are 110% invested in their growth and well-being, I warm to them immediately, because I understand wanting to go all in, wanting to check all the boxes, wanting to be the best at whatever it is I'm doing.
But perfectionism has a dark underbelly, and that's shame and fear. I give everything I have to a process, because I believe if I DO the things perfectly, then the results will show themselves in my BEING.
And so, if I can't DO perfectly, I can't BE the best. then where's the proof that I am inherently good enough, skilled enough, etc?
I always want to skip the falling, the failing, the breakdown that blossoms into a breakthrough. Because let's face it: it's messy, painful, uncomfortable, and vulnerable.
But it's in our failures, in our risks and daring that we transform and truly level up.
That's easy to say, and even to acknowledge intellectually.
But how do you embrace failure in the moment? How do you turn shit into gold?
It starts with mindfulness.
It starts with recognizing that the agony of failure and defeat, heart-rending as it is--- is an invitation to expand. Or to contract. And there's power in recognizing that invitation in the groundless moment right before your face hits the dirt.
If you don't fail, you're not risking. If you don't fail, you're not taking a stand for something.
If you don't fail, you're not fully participating in life. You're not committed to being present.
It would behoove us to start celebrating our failures as much as our successes. Whether they're in the arenas of relationships, business, parenting, management, personal growth, whatever they are; the harder you fall, the bigger the lessons you've learned.
What if we believed that the things that we failed at, we were supposed to fail at in order to become stronger, wiser, more resilient?
Think of something you've experienced failure with recently: what if that was somehow the best outcome, even if it doesn't feel that way right now? Can you tap into a bigger part of yourself that views that failure with compassion and love?
Failure makes us smarter, stronger, and more supple. And it's a necessary part of being a successful human being.