To redefine failure, you must redefine success

What if we make failure our goal? Will we then become accidentally successful?

It starts young. Your world is sprawling, endless, and dizzying. You will learn to stand. You will try, and fail. You learn to walk. This path is muddied, trampled over, but you're greeted by ambition. Someone else has walked here before, and it’s this familiarity you keep holding onto; this path can only lead to one destination.

As a young boy, I held onto this promise. The road winds, and winds. You’re playing a game that has long been mastered by those who came before you. You're at an obvious disadvantage, but you keep pushing. It starts young. You're set up to fail.

They've drawn a map to success. As if it's a static, still destination. One step after another, two, three. This experience has been flattened into a reel, into a script. It’s a sign of life, but your pace cannot match the speed of this way forward. You stumble, limp, and blood pools in your shoe. You don't stop.

The first time I’d slowed down was right after college. My friends had long outpaced me. They'd filled out shoes bigger than theirs. At once, every little map has collapsed into one. The way forward.

At once, you realise, it isn't enough. You did everything right, and yet, it didn't guarantee success. No matter how well you followed the map, you end up lost anyway.

In the years since, the dust has settled. Slow and steady, you look back at a memory with new, bleary eyes. Slow and steady, a recognition has taken home in your bones. Between your ribs. I’ve lived most of my life learning to avoid failure. Not succeed. I've chosen the path with the least resistance. I’ve chosen a promise. I've chosen evidence.

Failure echoes; nimble, glassy, quiet. The space between what was promised and where you arrive. We choose to fill this space with shame.

BUT TO REDEFINE FAILURE, YOU MUST REDEFINE SUCCESS.

What does success mean to you, and in context of it, what does failure mean? Success and failure are answers to a tangible goal. Once the goal shifts, the meaning dissolves. So does shame. Why don't we chase failure? Why isn't the goal to fail, to experience, to learn? If the goal is to fail, will you go out of your way to do things you didn't before? When you were sure you’d fail, so you didn’t even try—things that seemed too far out, too farfetched, too exposed.

What if, instead, the goal is a thousand rejections? The fear of failing begins to dissolve — because failing is the point. What if that was the metric? If the goal was to fail, would you try harder?

Your world was sprawling, once—you were just a child, wobbling, reaching, falling, trying again. You never called it failure.

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