The F word. No, not the one you’re all thinking about. I’m talking about failure. I get shivers just writing it. Many of you get the shakes just reading it. Except maybe those of you who think you got it beat. Maybe you do. I hope that you do.
I don’t. I was just ahead of it, and then I found out, not so much. It found me. Again.
At this point in my life, it should be in my rearview, like my rearview times 100. But its not.
So what does one do? I mean, one, not me. Ok, me.
You find a way to keep moving. You discover who your friends are, your real friends. You make a plan, a new plan, times two.
Times a million.
And then you get going.
Sure, you can lick wounds, scream at God, the gods, make a lot of excuses, but then none of those things really pay the bills, and the bottom line is that there are bills, there are always bills.
If you have kids, there are a ton of bills.
Today I took stock of my failure. I decided to go to the movies with a friend. Yeah, because what else do you do when you fail, you’re broke, and you don’t know what the f*&k to do.
I found inspiration. I laughed. I cried. I argued with a friend who wasn’t as moved as I was. Doesn’t matter.
There was a song that reached me. I can’t write music. I can’t sing. Heck, I can’t dance. But music has always found its way into my heart.
I cried watching this movie, because of a song. And I knew that I was going to be ok. Because what choice is there.
Failure happens. I have always been a firm believer that we only grow through failure. Ok, so I sort of feel like enough is enough. But the universe thinks differently.
Failure has found me once again.
But its ok. Its an opportunity to take stock, to discover things about myself, about those who love me.
I got this.