Failing Upward

Don't worry, friends: I'm still kickin'!

On a recent episode of Conan O'Brien Needs A Friend, the guest was Arnold Schwarzenegger. Yes, the former Mr. Universe and star of timeless blockbusters like Conan: The Barbarian, Total Recall and, perhaps his finest work, Kindergarten Cop.

While Arnold and I may not necessarily vote the same way (and we are definitely on waaaaay different levels of bodily respect, as in: I'm made of butter), but he said something that really resonated with me:

"Make friends with failure,"

-The Gubernator

Don't get me wrong, I'm no stranger to failure--TRUST. However, this simple adage from The Terminator did get the ol' hamster wheel spinning around how I've viewed failure and the fear of it for most of my life, and also how I can use this new friend to my benefit in the future.

A few months back, I took an audition for a smaller orchestra, and, to say it went poorly would be an understatement. My brain took its union break for the approximately three minutes that I bungled in spectacular fashion on stage.

Did I ugly cry into a McChicken afterward? Yes. Yes, I did.

Did I immediately add that experience to what I feel is an already towering stack of failures? You betcha.

Save me, Conan!

It's as simple as this: learn from your mistakes. But, the idea of "making friends with failure" somehow makes that notion feel more engaging and empowering. Failure is no longer something to fear--no, it's something from which to learn, engage and embrace.

This, even more than learning from one's mistakes, assuages that fear of failure, too. Why be afraid when the worst that's going to happen is that you make a new friend? (Surgeons and pilots, maybe don't make a lot of friends. Thanks.)

I don't know about you, but I name my instruments because it's a relationship (I mean, my dog isn't named "Dog" and my husband isn't named "Money Check"). Recently, I changed my bassoon's name from "Garf" (he's orange, striped and often quite fickle) to "Rocky." Well, technically it's "Rocky II" since my last bassoon was "Rocky," but it's a Simpsons "Snowball II" situation.

I digress.

His name is Rocky because it puts something in my rearview that I've forgotten: winning isn't everything and that's okay.

Just keep punching meat, sweating it out underneath garbage bags and running up public steps. You are enough, and you have all of the tools that you need to be whoever it is you want to be.

...I'll be back.