Fail, Fail Again, Fail Better (47)

Failing is an art. An art form. A genre of art. It can be messy, like a Pollock, splattered and chaotic. It can be huge brush strokes, noticeable and flamboyant like Van Gogh, or it can be personal and subtle like a Rembrant. A portrait of ourselves and our incessant need to improve ourselves. It rarely is said that failure is sought out. Yet, it is. For we know, if we do not stumble, tumble and catch ourselves we will never be able to harness and climb our tallest of goals.

We have to get there. As I said in my yesterday's post, what got us here, wont get us there. We have to continue to take those wild opportunities, the ones we know we won't quite shine at. We will complete them, to zero fanfare, but when we come out the other end- we will have found a part of ourselves we thought we had lost. The childhood version of the universe, we were told to cage as adults.

As adults we see bubbles and our eyes glisten just a bit. We see an ice cream cone and remember the shore, sand between our toes, the sound of the waves. We feel our childhood everywhere, yet they are glimpses. These echo's are there not to depress us, but to inspire us to be the image of ourselves, we clearly had in our heads, when we walked that summer day on the beach. We underestimate ourselves, all the time. Even the most confident of individuals, has doubts. They are just really good at masking them.

Failure is an option for us, even though it wasn't for the amazing Houston scientists and mathematicians of NASA, when Apollo 13 needed to land safely. It is a benefit that we fail, because some of the most innovative and evolutionary failures have led to the most innovative and evolutionary advances of human kind. Those individuals saw their failures, and laughed in the face of failure...ha, ha, ha.

Fail, fail again, fail better. Seek the moments when you know that you will struggle and scramble and strive. I write a lot about not fitting in- I don't. But, I also write a lot about overcoming my isolation, I keep trying to do better, see things in a different way. I get lonely. But, I am also very comfortable being alone. When I come home my family is around me and I am surrounded by love. 

It is a balance. I do not let exclusion become avoidance. But, I also do not let myself nudge into places where I do not feel connected. I am alright, in a quiet, darkened room innovating alone. I sit with others, I listen, I plan, I socialize- but ultimately, I am in my head. I have questioned that for awhile- being in my head more than I am being in the company of others. 

I have soul searched, meditated and prayed. I have tried to see others as isolating me. But in reality, it is me, isolating myself. I am stepping out a bit more, walking over to someone else and talking to them. Trying to create connections. There are a few improvements, it will take awhile. But, I have also come to the realization- I am alright, traveling frequently, to my head space.

A balance- family, loud, chaotic, messy like a Pollock. Bright, colorful brush strokes of a Van Gogh- innovating and sharing my ideas. My personal, journey- subtle, consistent, calculated shapes and portraits of a Rembrant. Together they are a landscape of me.

My failures are art. They are an art form. They are every genre of art- all of them and together they create the most amazing of museums. I can wander and observe all of the beautiful masterpieces of my lifetime. Even with a little Edvard Munch added in, my life has been pretty cool. What is a museum, a life, failure and success, without a few screams?