Failing Well

When I was a young adult, we went ice-skating as a large group. My mother was an ice-skater, so she taught me a few things about falling down: which parts of you get damaged more easily, make a fist, etc. I did actually fall once, but I could feel my balance going, so I braced for it. The gentleman I skated with said it looked like I fell on purpose. Well, the falling wasn't on purpose, but the method was. It was an awkward moment as I shrugged, and wondered what kind of person he thought would fall on the ice on purpose. It's not like I had expected him to catch me. I'm not Dickensian, and Ice HURTS. Hence, the bracing.

Failing is a little different from falling. I don't fail well. I fail often, but doing it well is a rather counter-intuitive skill depending on what you are attempting. Brene Brown connects failing well with vulnerability. To her, it means daring the attempt multiple times until success is achieved. Success is really only adaptive failure. When you fail, as opposted to fall, it's best if you're not braced. It's best if you're running full-out, and vulnerable, alone ahead of everybody.

When I lived in Germany, I rang lots and lots of doorbells. Each time, I was hoping the door would be answered by somebody who would let me in, offer me hot cocoa, and listen to me talk about Jesus and Eternal Families, patterns, and prophets. I don't think it ever worked. As a method for introducing onesself or ideas, intruding on home-life is simply unsuccessful in a country as private as Germany. I was persistent, but not adaptive. We used to talk to people on the street and while we would occasionally get a phone number, we understood that our activities were encouraged not because they were actually productive but because they were most efficient at producing failure, which is an easy measure of work for people not expected to see ANY success. So I braced myself for failure, and actually thereby invited it. I don't fail well.

I do fail a lot, and I've actually learned some tricks for adapting - assuming that the task is worth the effort, of course.

1) If people are wasting time placing blame, volunteer to be the scapegoat. It moves things along, and makes you look like a responsible person while implying that you did not make the mistake. This works best if you did not actually drop the ball yourself, but perhaps only contributed to group error. It also works best if your group actually has tasks yet to accomplish. It's the whole Frodo "I'll take the ring, though I do not know the way" scenario. Brilliant pathos.

2) Admit your failure to yourself and aloud. A quick "I did that wrong" can help put your action in perspective. It also works best if you can follow it up with "let me try it again." Remember, they won't always let you try again, especially if your failure was particularly costly. You might back up your request by articulating how you'll do it differently this time.

3) Apologize for using others' time or trying their patience - within reason. It's polite to acknowledge that your failure inconvenienced others, but not to waste MORE time being obsequious or self-deprecating. (I fail at this a lot. I often over-apologize. It's part of my queenly duties as Leige of Awkward)

4) Invest emotionally and intellectually in every attempt, but confront the idea that you might NEVER succeed. It's a tough line to walk, but it creates the space for progress without the need for perfection. I use this strategy with my organ practice. I know I'll never play perfectly, but I put in the time to learn each new song, knowing that I will make mistakes in front of hundreds of potential man-friends.

5) Be determined, tenacious, and stubborn beyond sanity. Repeated failure is not a good enough reason to quit - just reason to reassess your strategies or tactics.

6) Be patient with yourself. Failure -- and I mean "I really screwed up this time" rather than "I had to attempt it to find out it wouldn't work," failure (real "time to hate myself" dickheaded moves can make patience nearly impossible, especially if you associate with people who think that they DON'T fail, or at least won't admit it) -- should REFINE you, not DEFINE you. You sit there in that jail cell looking at your life in ashes and remember the recipe for lye. Figure out how to make it better and where to start building again. After they give you back your shoes.

7) Give the people around you space to fail, and the opportunity to apologize (even if they never take you up on it). It's not just good practice for yourself, it'll surround you with people who DO know how to admit failure. Theoretically, they'll be more sympathetic in return.

8) Use whatever happens to you as an excuse to do what you were going to do anyway - something more awesome. In the words of the immortal Cosmo Brown, "It's time to start/stop suffering and write that symphony!"

9) Sometimes you can laugh - if you can, do. Sometimes you can't laugh. So cry. Cry in front of people. You might get a hug out of it all.

10) When you worry about what others think of you, remember that nobody's 100% attractive until they succeed. You're a work in progress, and when you see success you'll be the sexiest thing alive. In the meantime, risk the criticism and adjust your course by your destination, not by the passengers.*

*Unless you write TV or direct movies, in which case, you're the wheel, not the captain.