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Thinking about Failure

I do not like to fail. 

Nobody really enjoys failing (I assume), but some people seem to take it a little more in stride than I do. 

In the past year, I've come to embrace falling short of the mark. Not failing because I didn't do what I was supposed to, but missing the goal I had set for myself. 

Case in point, I really wanted to blog every day this month. I knew I had a lot going on, but I thought it would give me plenty of fodder for the days when the well seemed dry. 

It didn't happen. 

Even in the first couple days, I had to fall back on posts that seemed ineffectual and a poor representation of what I can write and show here. Not everything is Pulitzer-quality. Not everything can be. 

I thought I was doing well and then I looked back and I realized that I had missed Day 5. Well, that's that. 

The thing is, I missed Day 5 because I went out and played with my kids. I missed a different day because I took my son to the Bear Paw Festival. A separate time, I was too tired to write because I managed to walk 13 miles. 

A friend of mine says, "Writers write. Butt in chair. Do it." 

This is most certainly true. However, none of the other things happened because I was avoiding writing. They happened because they are what my life looks like right now. I haven't developed the discipline for quiet daily writing because I've made other things a priority. 

That's the lesson for me here. Maybe for you? 

We can all say, "I don't/didn't have time." You have the time. I have the time. 

The real question is: what did we decide to do instead? 

If you look at how you spend your time (money/energy/spiritual devotion) and it reflects your values,

then you haven't failed. 

If your checkbook, your extracurriculars, your gods are otherwise, what does that mean? 

I wanted to write every day and I didn't. One goal: F

I value spending time with my family, working toward a healthier me, and being outside. Second goal: A.


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