On Reframing Failure
There’s a finality in failure that belongs only to the word and how we use it in our language. Over the years, rather than trying to change the meaning of the word, I got rid of it altogether.
I spoke to this in my yoga classes recently, on this idea of reframing failure for what it really is: an opportunity for growth.
If you’re a parent in the WA school system, you’d be familiar with EduDance, a dance education program that runs at primary schools. Elodie was especially excited about this year, and wouldn’t even show us some of the routine, in anticipation of this grand reveal.
The morning arrived and a very nervous, shrinking Elodie walked into my room with tears in her eyes.
‘What’s wrong babe?’
‘I’m really really nervous about today’. She promptly burst into tears.
After some digging, we ascertained that she was terrified of getting the dance wrong. The teacher had put her front and centre and Elodie was worried that everyone would see her make a mistake.
Her words, ‘I don’t want to be a failure’.
If you saw my Instagram stories, you’ll know that she absolutely KILLED it, but this dialogue of “failing” has been coming up a lot lately for Elodie. She’s going to be 7 in January, and through her schooling there are a lot more things like assessments & tests, sports carnivals, and performances - plenty of opportunities for a self-aware little girl to fail. She’s also worried about picking the wrong thing (like what after-school activity to do) or wearing the wrong thing (like to a birthday party).
This pains me greatly because there are many things I didn’t start, do, or become, because I once thought I’d fail at it. There’s a finality in failure that belongs only to the word and how we use it in our language. Over the years, rather than trying to change the meaning of the word, I got rid of it altogether. I’ve been doing the work, unpacking this fear of failure and engaging in a practice of self-enquiry, so much to a point that this concept of failure is no longer in my vocabulary. I don’t entertain it, thereby being incapable of failure in its traditional sense.
And because I’ve been on this journey myself, I’ve been working hard on reframing this rhetoric with Elodie because, well we don’t fail in our family. I don’t fail, my husband doesn’t fail, and my children don’t fail. And this is the lesson we’re trying to impart on Elodie;
It’s impossible for you to fail and
You are never - even if you thought you failed at something - a failure.
Let me be absolutely clear… I’ve definitely fucked up. We’ve certainly made our fair share of mistakes in this family, but what might be called a failure, for me, is an important lesson or an opportunity for growth. We’re reframing failure through the lens of knowledge, of wisdom, of growth. To be on a path of learning is one of our familys’ values – to always be open to knowing something better, or differently. To read the books, take the leaps, listen to new perspectives – not because we’re perpetually changing our opinions (some things we feel very strongly rooted in and wont change) but because life shouldn’t exist in an echo chamber of familiarity, nodding heads, and mediocrity.
“There’s a finality in failure that belongs only to the word”
My husband Jimmy recently left his cushy job. But that’s the thing about “cushy” ….when does it change from soft and yielding to beige and uninspired? Jimmy wanted to move on to a new role because he had stopped learning in his previous role and there wasn’t any real opportunity to progress. He could have stayed in that role for many years to come, making good money for very little input or brain power. Instead he moved to a role that has him busy every hour of the working day. He’s challenged, but he’s also motivated to learn something new and expand his skillset.
And his new role has MANY more opportunities to mess that shit up.
The last 5 years of teaching yoga (and running a business around it) has taught me many important lessons, primarily about HOW to run a business, but also, how to be a leader, how to navigate risk, how to pivot, how to recalibrate, and how to stop from going under. None of those things would have been possible without a number of *failures*.
My very first one of these (of many) was when Vital Beat was 12 months old. We were in a prime growth phase – it felt like we could only go onwards and upwards. Only, I knew very little about my business financials or how to manage them, and when I finally caught up with my tax obligations (my quarterly BAS) the ATO then caught up with ME. Shortcut to 6 months of overdue GST plus a number of late lodgement fines and it was a painful financial hit. I took it on the chin and quickly moved on, I also
learned that I had an unhealthy relationship with money and my “right to earn” and that I had stuff to work through around money as energy.
learned that there were systems, software, and training, that would elevate me to the level I needed to be at, and quickly.
learned the importance of making regular financial dates with myself to go over my numbers (something I now quite enjoy), and
learned that ATO fines are actually quite easy to get around/out of, if you have a good bookkeeper or accountant (and I found a new Accountant quick smart!)
It’s easy to step back from a $9000 lesson and say “that’s it, I’m not cut out for this. This was a failure / I’m a failure / who am I to attempt this”. It’s easy to use these experiences as defining moments, a “feather in our fuckup cap” so to speak.
‘I learned that I had an unhealthy relationship with money and my “right to earn”’
Without these experiences however, our life lacks colour. It’s a stretched canvas of straight edges and perfect circles and shading inside the lines. How mundane would our careers and relationships be if we hadn’t experienced the transformative qualities of knowing what we DON’T want? We need the bad boyfriend to appreciate the good one. We need the shitty boss to know what leadership SHOULD look like. We need the bunky first car, tiny first rental, and hey, maybe even get fired once, to know what’s not right for us. These aren’t failed careers, or failed relationships, they’re guideposts with lit signs pointing the way to say “Over here! This way to the lessons!”. And only then, when you follow those signs, can you see the person you’re becoming.
The knowledge and wisdom that forms part of our family values, don’t come from formal education. We can only know firsthand from a lived experience – learning things about ourselves, and learning things FOR ourselves. So as Elodie sat on the end of my bed, willing the Earth to swallow her up, I made sure she knew what lessons were on the other side of the EduDance performance and we talked about both scenarios - if she got the dance wrong, AND if she got the dance perfect.
“What would you have learned afterwards, Elodie?” And I let her write that story.