Redefining Success and Failure

As a child, I was the one who flat out refused to try new things. I was afraid I’d fail, or not be good enough. This fear stuck with me into adulthood. When I was in my 20s, my friends tried to convince me to join an intramural softball team. I decline, citing poor hand-eye coordination and abysmal throwing technique. Okay, while it’s true I wouldn’t have been the best softball player on the diamond, it’s also the case that I’d set an unreasonable, Mickey Mantle-level bar for myself. I couldn’t quite recognize that it wasn’t about being good at the game, it was about having fun with friends. It was about laughing at our lack of coordination, our ineptitude, our gracelessness. Probably none of us was an exceptional player, but I didn’t give myself the chance to find that out, did I?

This week, I’ve spent time reflecting on the rigid line I tend to set for myself between failure and success. This reflection comes as, seven years into my PhD, I find myself requesting an extension to complete the final process of writing my dissertation. This is the first time in my academic career (which, in this moment, I was shocked to realise has spanned more than a decade-and-a-half) that I’ve needed an extension for any kind of assignment. It was very tough to ask for it.

I knew it was coming, and I know others who have gone through the same thing, but that didn’t make it any easier.

My mind was telling me that this request was tantamount to failure.

And, in the same way I actively decided not to participate in intramural softball so as to avoid failure, I have tried to avoid placing myself in situations that are indicative of failure in other aspects of my life.

So, how does one keep striving, while at the same time, accepting (and maybe even embracing) one’s failures? During a particularly teary moment this week, someone said to me, “Hilary, there is freedom allowing yourself the possibility of failure”. I wrote that down. It’s a difficult concept for me, but the more I think about it, the more it resonates.  Maybe it comes down to reframing “failure”, or perhaps it requires shifting the proverbial line that to me marks failure back, and I mean way back, in order to recognize the variety of experiences that can be termed “success”?

I work at Nelnah Bessie John School, the tiny but incredible school in Beaver Creek. Before the end of this school year, students and staff participated in an exercise around limiting self-beliefs. We were given a piece of cardstock on which to write our limiting self-beliefs. The snow had just melted, and last year’s remaining cranberries were visible. We each picked several squishy, old cranberries and then we squashed them onto our words. This exercise was intended for the kids, but I was deeply impacted by it. I was struck by how often I actually reinforce my limiting self-beliefs by the way I speak to myself.

I believe in the importance of striving to succeed, but I can’t help but wonder whether being hard on oneself and striving for success might, in my case at least, be a little too closely linked? The cranberry squashing exercise showed me that words become beliefs and that instead of moving me forward, these words were setting me back. To move forward, I need to do away with the idea that being hard on myself will lead me to succeed. And beyond that, I need to do away with my rigid notion that success is fixed.

Moving to Beaver Creek has helped me embrace a series of unconventional and unexpected successes: Learning how to cook, braving the elements, recognizing my strengths, managing a significant medical diagnosis, building the North Phase community, which includes you, dear friend! The list goes on. And within each of those successes, there have been plenty of failures. Meals that lacked flavour. Frostbite. Doubt. Feelings of loss. Impostor syndrome. But those failures have helped build something beautiful – a life I love and a me I’m learning to love, too – both successes if you ask me! So, maybe failure isn’t all bad.

I’ll end with a story. A metaphor perhaps for how I hope to move forward. A few weeks ago, our friends bought an excavator. I went over to help with clean-up on the property and they let me drive the excavator and move brush to a burn pile. Let me tell you – I was a poor student! It was VERY DIDIFFICULT! The controls! The levers! The arm and the bucket! I had a new level of respect for construction workers after that. And I messed up, a lot. Like, a lot-a lot. But I kept going and slowly it became easier and that night, I dreamt of excavators.

The girl who once refused to play softball (with friends!!) out of a fear of failure would be surprised. Surprised and proud.

Although I’ll be the first to admit that I haven’t fully bought into it, I now know that failure is part of the process. It’s bound to happen. The word ‘failure’ has a seriously negative connotation (it should speak to an image consultant), but really, it’s just a step toward growth which is just another way of saying success.

So, just for fun, I’ll redefine failure and success for you:

Failure

fail·ure

/ˈfālyər/

noun

1.     a process necessary for growth

Success

suc·cess

/səkˈses/

noun

1.     a stage or condition marked by development and growth