Failure is evidence of risk taken.
Michael raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you wanted to be a biology major.”
“I didn’t, really. But it was a good path to physical therapy, which I thought was the plan.”
“But you failed biology? Twice?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t score high enough for the cutoff of my program.”
It’s interesting he asked this, and in this way, because the last several days have consumed me with ideas and theories about “failure” and more accurately, how “failure” is often a critical step in alignment. Not a happenstance step. Not a “misstep” but a critical step.
Had I not failed that bio class- twice- I would never have gathered the gumption to change my major(s) to sociology and psychology.1 I took the risk of trying. I failed. And then the residue of that risk, like reading tea leaves, showed me what I actually wanted. Needed. And was called to.
I took a hard look at what came to me with ease. It was my psychology classes, sociology, anthropology, and writing. I’ll admit now- better yet- brag now, that in many of those courses I never even bought the book.
Most lectures felt as though they were simply awakening something in me that had always been there. This compounded in graduate school when I honed in on my path as a counselor.
It was hard work, but it was heart work.
It was hard work, but it was heart work.
And as I’ve shared abundantly here, my heart is my very strongest muscle. So while it required so much of me, it required who I am instead of what I knew. And that, my friends, is what I call Alignment.
I casually, yet dramatically told a friend recently, “Quite frankly2, I’m not interested in the opinion of anyone who isn’t trying and risking failure.” As Brene Brown said (paraphrasing) “If you aren’t with me in the damn arena, you can shut the hell up.”3
Failure is a potential consequence of valuing courage.
Failure is the residue of risks taken.
Failure is an invitation for realignment.
Alignment, I imagine like realigning broken bones, comes with some disruption. Some pain to the system, and in the case of failure, pain to the ego. I believe we all want to be someone who overcomes. Meets a challenge head on. Comes out on top!
But who are we when the dust is still in the air, clouding our vision, making us cough, eyes watering compounded by tears of failure. Who are we when we heave over, hands on our legs, catching our breath from defeat? Who are we when it isn’t pretty at all?
It can cause me, us, to question if the risk was worth it at all? And the answer is “always.” To bank on courage, to trust ourselves - not even to trust that we will succeed, but to trust that we will be attuned enough to rebound. That’s what happens in the arena.
And in that failure, we see the alignment—the call, the purpose, the next right thing. The left turn, the right turn. The sit down, the run now, the try this instead. And who we become when we follow that path—allowing failure to be alignment—is stronger, more attuned, more fulfilled than we ever could have imagined.
So if you find yourself in failure. Let the dust settle, cough its residue up and out of your lungs. Wipe your tear soaked eyes and let them meet the gaze of all who love you, realign, stand back up, and then try again.
Yes, I am a double major baddie. Thank you and you’re welcome.
One only says “quite frankly” when they are indeed, about to say something they're undoubtedly proud of.
Check this out. It’s a great goosebump inducing reminder.
"trust that we will be attuned enough to rebound" ~ i love this. 💓🙌💓