Confession: I’m a failure. I fail every day. But I’m also a success. I keep trying.
How do I mean? I’ll give you a few examples:
I applied to graduate school four times before being accepted. When I finally got in, it was on uncertain terms. (I’ll explain later.)
I didn’t complete my first half Ironman. I was anemic and had to withdraw. The next year, I finished two half Ironmans and several other triathlons. I have my sights set on completing my first marathon and first full Ironman in 2018/19.
I started a blog while I lived in Taiwan, Tai Tao. It never took off. When I moved to Hong Kong, I started Shift. Today I have more than 2,400 followers (and hope to gain many more).
I’ve lived in seven cities in ten years. Each relocation has been difficult. I’ve never given up and moved home (wherever that is). My life perspective has grown ten-fold because of this.
I’ve loved and I’ve lost. I’ve learned something valuable from each relationship. I’ll be swimming and not out on a date tomorrow night. (Valentine’s Day sucks, anyway.)
I’m trying to eat healthier. I had a vegetable smoothie with tofu for lunch. I also had gummy bears. :D
I like what Will Smith has to say on this topic, too. In truth, the only way to truly fail is when you stop trying.
What’s your relationship with failure? Do you agree with Will?
Some days I feel like this — especially when I’m writing poetry!
When I created my blog, it was to share ideas. To share ideas and experiences, and to engage with others — yes, that includes you. I detested blog posts that were simply daily journals or gripes or complaints or even inspirational photos or quotes. To me, those things seemed empty: Unless I know you personally or have established a relationship with you, I don’t want a recap of your day, I want a point. I want something that makes me think, or smile, or that catches my attention in a meaningful way.
The trouble with that line of thinking, though, is that it’s the same kind of thinking that makes me cry when I hear songs like “Message In a Bottle,” which I talked about here. It’s me being “Little Miss Intense,” the one who can’t stand “fluff” and could turn even the silliest situation into an internal philosophical debate. “To bake the cookies, or not to bake the cookies — that is the question.”
I am a U.S. citizen. I was born to two loving parents who worked hard to provide for their children. I have never had to worry about food or shelter. I have never been abused, raped, or neglected. I have a college education and have been privileged to travel to many different parts of the world.