Failure is just feedback. How to use it well.
/Recognize that failure is just feedback.
What is failure, anyway? Just something that didn’t work.
So why are we so ridiculously uncomfortable with it?
Not because it didn’t work—all sorts of things don’t work—but because of the judgment we place on the fact that it didn’t work. And the scrutiny that subjects us to—from ourselves, and others.
Why do we need to judge and scrutinize?
We don’t need to, really—we’re just used to it. Why? Because humans love control almost as much as we love rank + authority to define ourselves. We pretend they’re not the arbitrary illusions that they are in order to feel some sense of agency in our lives.
But control and rank are not actually agency, they’re coping mechanisms for NOT feeling our agency.
For trying to force outcomes, instead of allowing them to unfold. For allowing the trial, but not the error. For judging others—or ourselves—in order to rank our identities as “better than” or “not enough.”
But true agency is actually NAVIGATION of what arises, not control over it.
What’s the best way to navigate something?
Get curious, not judgmental.
To the ego, feedback feels like a threat. To a system seeking healthy balance, feedback is a necessity.
When we remove judgment from a situation, “failure” becomes incredibly useful data for how to move forward—and how not to.
Then, when we move forward, integrate feedback, and iterate, the “failure” becomes just one more step in the process.
This isn’t to say we need to aim for failure, just that when it happens, to not act as if we’re shocked by the treachery.
Failure. Is just. A thing. That. Didn’t. Work.
That’s it.
Why did it fail? Why did that person do this thing? Why didn’t I?
Those are the more interesting questions—open-ended portals to solutions, rather than judgments people can’t wait to squirm away from.
When curiosity comes in, there’s POSSIBILITY. And whenever there’s possibility, there’s POWER—power to iterate, tweak, putter, collaborate, practice, try, try again.
That’s where true power lies: building agency and identity through navigating ALL of life, not just the successful parts—together.