What does it mean to fail?
Probably not as much as you think.
There is a stigma out there against failing. A common narrative that those who fail are not worthy of our praise and attention.
This stigma makes it seem as if there is only one viable option in life — succeeding. That failing is the worst thing that can happen to us.
It’s a silly proposition, really. All you need to do is crack open a history book to see that some of the world greatest success stories failed repeatedly before finding their glory.
Thomas Edison might be renowned for inventing the light bulb. But he also spearheaded a bunch of other inventions that didn’t make it.
Michael Jordan redefined professional basketball. But before that, he got cut from his varsity team in high school.
Even Abraham Lincoln — the honest, even-keeled man who led America through some of its most tumultuous years — lost his first political election.
Failing early on did not derail these legendary figures of history. If anything, it helped fuel their later success.
Why? Because they knew the difference between failing and being a failure.
It’s a seemingly minor difference. A shift of three little letters. But the gap between failing and failure is anything but inconsequential.
One term defines the experience of missing the mark. The other lets that experience define you.
The shift from failing to failure has nothing to do with our innate skills. It has nothing to do with our finely-tuned talents. It has nothing to do with our ability to execute.
But it has everything to do with what lies between our ears.
You see, to err is human. Even as we doggedly chase perfection, we recognize it’s more nirvana than reality.
We fall on our face dozens of times as we learn how to walk. We strike out our fair share in Little League as we learn to knock it over the fence. We get questions wrong in class as we learn what exactly it is we do not yet know of.
These failings are part of an iterative process. They’re the journey to an uncertain destination, the steps to a yet unknown summit.
But only if we allow them to be.
We might not be able to control the outcome. But we can surely control our outlook.
As a noted control enthusiast in a chaotic world, I’ve long maintained that we have control over exactly two things — our attitude and our effort.
Managing this properly is key to succeeding after failing.
Many of the world’s greatest success stories took their failings and owned them. But they didn’t let missing the mark define them.
No, they had the confidence to be resilient in the face of adversity. They had the courage to try a little harder, dig a little deeper and dream a little bigger.
This process took them to new heights. It can even be said that failing helped drive their ultimate triumph.
So, it certainly appears that failing is not quite as awful as we make it seem.
Failure? Well, that’s a different story.
I am afraid of many irrational things. Chief among them is mud. (It’s a long story.)
But one of the most rational fears I have is a fear of failure.
I say this not because of my perfectionist tendencies or introverted nature. For despite those traits, I do not shy away from the opportunity to fail.
No, my fear of failure lies at a deeper level. It indicates that I’ve thrown in the towel, and given up on myself.
I don’t want to see that ever happen. Not once.
For accepting failure at face value is like closing a jailhouse door. It confines us and limits our potential.
This is far worse than failing, time and again. Branding ourselves as failures is like putting the final nails in our own coffin.
Branding ourselves a failure goes beyond being risk-averse. It means barricading ourselves from any avenue toward future success. It means sitting in the corner and feeling sorry for ourselves for eternity. It means simply taking up space, instead of making a difference in the world.
I don’t want to face this fate. That’s why I’m driven to give my all each and every day.
It’s why I continue to make bold moves where it’s pertinent. It’s why I remain encouraged by my small failings now and then — knowing that the bitter pill of today will only serve to make tomorrow sweeter.
Yes, my failure sustains me. It drives me and keeps me humble. It inspires me and balances me.
It’s a gift bestowed upon me. One that I am oh so thankful for.
If recognition is half the battle, let these words serve as a wake-up call.
It’s time we differentiate between failing and failure. And that we stop stigmatizing the former in accordance with the latter.
For while they may sound about the same, these terms are light years apart.
One is a powerful tool in our development. And another is the architect of our own demise.
We are foolish and shortsighted to paint these concepts with such a broad brush. By doing so, we limit our contributions to the world. We become sheep not lions.
We’re better than this. Deep down we know it.
Now, it’s time to show it.
Let’s embrace failing. But let us not accept failure.