What great thing would you attempt if you knew you could not fail? It’s a generic question, no doubt, but got me thinking of extremely specific things. There are so many things I’d do if failure wasn’t an expected outcome. I am one of those people who, admittedly, dislike failure with a great passion.
Then again, I’m not sure if anything in life is actually a “fail.” If you learn something from it, use it in the future in a different, positive way, then isn’t it a form of success? I don’t know the meaning of failure –no, literally, a proper definition is lost to me.
I don’t believe anything is a lost cause. (1st definition of failure – Lack of success) Nor can I believe a person attached to this derogatory term can fulfil the criteria completely (2nd definition of failure – An unsuccessful person, enterprise, or thing.) There is always that bit of success which assures that no-one is ever a failure.
Regarding the concept of failure, there is a huge fear of it. Even when I know it doesn’t, technically, exist. It’s just my standards being too high, of me not working hard or persistently enough or not recognising the full extent of a certain value or trait until it’s useful in the future. How can something which doesn’t exist scare me so much?
Maybe because I let it.
There’s the cold, hard truth right there. Failure is a psychological factor which acts on my nerves, that convinces me not to try new things, and keeps me bound to what I already know. It’s disappointing, cruel and level-headed. Somehow, the voice of this nonexistent trait is always on my mind.
It won’t ever disappear. In fact, the fear of failure can lead to beneficial outcomes, such as the exceeding amount of hard work. But even if an alternate result is obtained, that nagging voice will not disappear. Usually, it does more harm than good. Whether we allow that “usually” to remain there, gleam and mock us, is entirely our choice.
Back to the initial question asked: What’s the biggest risk you’d like to take — but haven’t been able to? What would have to happen to make you comfortable taking it?
I would like to know there’s no chance of failure.
The risks I’d take? Endless. Boundless. Limiting me isn’t an option. I’d train to become an athlete, so forcefully, without a singular moment’s worth of self-doubt. Sketching would be a part-time hobby of mine, forever producing magnificent works, one by one, without a single flaw. And the tests I procrastinate on, wanting things to be “just perfect” so I can study? Anytime I study is a perfect time.
But these shackles which hold us to a singular place, ungrudging from the comfort-zone we have constructed ourselves, are what makes us human. These moments of self-doubt make us stronger, empathise with others when broken, and the concept of what we hold important –what we are willing to risk our lives, our futures for– are the true epitome of failure’s ethereal beauty.