Be Willing To Fail

We often hesitate to try something new for fear of failing. Yet we often forget that 'failure' is a completely natural part of our growing process. If all babies learning to walk quit after the first tumble, we'd all lead pretty sedentary lives!

We were born willing, even eager, to try, to stretch, to grow...and to stumble along the way. It's all part of the journey.

Somewhere along our path, however, we got conditioned to be safe and to play small. We learned to be careful, to look good, and to worry about making mistakes (these beliefs clutter up our head).

How much simpler life would be if our mistakes and growing pains were celebrated along with our successes!

I sometimes catch myself thinking I should know how to do something I've never done before. At those times, I have had to learn to step back (often kicking and screaming), put things in perspective, and give myself a huge break. Once I do, I am much more excited and willing to step right in.

In fact, I bet you could easily think of memorable times in your life when you did something new, or difficult, or challenging, or scary. Nothing about the experience might have gone perfectly, yet you became a different person because of it. Just think of your first kiss (I bet THAT didn't go perfectly), or working with your first client, or getting your first job.

For me, one example comes to mind immediately. It was the summer of 1988 and I was an exchange student living with a host family in the tiny town of Sille-le-Guillaume, France. One day, some friends invited me to participate in a 4-person team rowboat race taking place the following week.

I was by no means an expert rower (adequate at best), had no team, no time to do anything resembling training (not that I would have known how to train for a boat race, anyway), and we would be competing against teams of men who trained for this race every year.

I could hear all the reasons to politely decline yelling in my head. Yet it sounded like a lot of fun, so I heard myself say yes.

And then right away, the fear set it.

Was I going to make a complete fool of myself? What on EARTH was I thinking?!?

But I had said yes, so I immediately contacted several other American friends from nearby towns to be my teammates; all the other people in town were already on teams. We became 'The American Express' (very aptly named by my host mother, Jacqueline).

We had no time to practice, let alone do anything resembling training. My teammates showed up the evening of the race (two of them had to take trains to get there), apprehensive yet enthusiastic.

The race was complete chaos...a couple of the women on my team had never rowed in their lives, it was windy and rainy and cold, and the lake was choppy. Our hands quickly became numb. Nothing, and I mean nothing, was going perfectly.

So we decided to just give it our all and have a good time. I mean, we were in France, in a boat race, in the rain!

Several hundred, or maybe it was only a dozen, laps later we arrived at the finish line, soaking wet, exhausted, and blistered, in second to last place.

And we were ecstatic! We did it! We finished the race!

We were cheered and supported and teased and encouraged all along the way by the fans who came out to watch the race.

We even won a trophy for being the first female team to cross the finish line.

So did we fail? In the traditional sense, absolutely. We were a mess.

In every other sense that mattered, we succeeded beyond our wildest dreams. We were four completely happy, exhausted young women who will have wonderful memories of that race for the rest of our lives.

To this day, I have a picture of the four of us, just after the race, that I will treasure forever (plus, I got to keep the trophy!) Here's to you, Sara, Loni, and Nicky!

Here's to all of you, too. Be willing to fail and make mistakes...and watch your life expand and grow beyond your wildest expectations!

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