We Aren’t Failing Enough
Sara Blakely, the founder of Spanx, says that every week, her father used to ask her and her brother at the dinner table: “What did you fail at this week?” When they responded, rather than being disappointed, he would celebrate their efforts. That reframed her definition of failure: "Failure for me became not trying". At Spanx, she encourages risk-taking by sharing her own failures with the entire company.
Most of us are conditioned to fear failure - I certainly used to dwell on my failures to an unhealthy degree. This means we take on difficult challenges far less frequently than we should. I don’t know if it’s possible to love failure, but I had to learn to deal with it better in order to dare to step outside the box I was (miserable) in.
I now dissect my failures through a series of questions that help me deal with them in a much healthier way.
How am I feeling? I stop and notice my feelings - disappointment, anger, sadness. I let myself feel them deeply in my body. That lets the feelings move through me a lot faster, though sometimes I have to repeat this step multiple times if they linger.
Did I really want it? Did I want to succeed, or did I self-sabotage? Once, on a call with a potential client, I gave what was probably the most muddled pitch in the history of client pitches. After the call, I asked myself why I was so bad when I could pitch clients in my sleep. I realized I didn’t want the project but wasn’t comfortable rejecting it offhand when I didn’t have an alternative at the time (hello, conditioning!). Now I ask myself: Am I sabotaging myself unconsciously because what I’m doing isn’t right for me? Did I do it because I was afraid not to, or because I was catering to someone else’s expectations?
Am I playing the victim? Am I wallowing? Am I indulging in self-pity and victimhood? That’s an excuse to stay small. I go back to my identity - how would the person I aspire to be react?
Am I judging myself? Am I engaging in self-flagellation and blame? That’s a variation on wallowing that gives me an excuse not to get up, dust myself off and try again. There is a big difference between taking responsibility - which means I am both accountable and empowered to change the outcome next time, and judging myself - preserving a negative attitude and increasing the likelihood I’ll fail again (or not try).
What did I learn? What elements were a success? Did I fail or did I set unrealistic expectations from the start? What limitations did the experience reveal to me in myself (my thinking, my approach, my skills), or in others?
How is this outcome better? Napoleon Hill said: “Every adversity carries with it the seed of an equal or greater benefit”. We’ve all heard stories of people who went through excruciating experiences and yet see the struggle as the best thing that happened to them. I always ask about my (not that dramatic or difficult) situation: Why is this supposed failure better for me than the outcome I wanted?
Sara Blakely founded a billion-dollar company with $5,000 and no business experience because she wasn’t afraid to fail. What becomes possible for you if you aren’t either?
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