In my career as a sportswriter, or even just in my spare time as a sports fan, few things irk me more than when someone labels a team a “failure” because that team did not win a championship.
Sometimes this criticism would come from another sports writer. Sometimes it would come from one of the fans of the team that did win the championship. It might come from the fans of the team itself. But no matter who said it, the words “they failed” would disturb me.
It might be true that the team had set a goal of winning a state championship, or national championship, or professional sports league championship. It might be true that the team was expected to win that title. It might be true that the team never did that.
But there is a difference between not reaching your goals and actual failure. Perhaps you could say a team that finishes in last place is a failure. I at least understand that description. But a team that makes it to the championship round, or even the semi- or quarterfinal rounds, of the playoffs are not failures. They succeeded.
Did they succeed as much as they wanted? Probably not. They probably dreamed of winning in the finals. But that is not failure. There is still more success overall.
This happens in many more areas of life than just sports. And often, the voice that says “failure” is not one we hear with our ears, but with our hearts and minds. When we succeed, but to a lesser extent than we had hoped, we become our own worst critics.
The student who brings home a B on a report card may feel like he failed because he did not get an A. A voice on the inside says “failure”, when the truth is he succeeded.
The singer who wins a local talent show but placed fourth in a regional event may feel like she failed the second time around. A voice on the inside says “failure”, when the truth is she succeeded.
The businessperson who has run a store for twenty years may feel like he should have been able to open a second or third location by now. A voice inside says “failure”, when the truth is he succeeded.
All those tests the student scored well on, all those notes the singer did hit, all those years the businessperson kept people employed...we easily forget them because we wanted more.
Goals are good. If you have a chance at the championship/A grade/talent show crown/expanded business, go for it. But do not overlook all the good that came along the way.
And the truth is...I'm writing this blog post to myself as much as anyone. (But please keep reading anyway.)
It is so easy to feel like a failure in every area of life, and I've probably felt it in nearly every arena of my own. As a husband, as a father, as a homeschooler, as worker, as a volunteer...I find one of two things I did wrong and I let the “failure” voice dominate my thoughts. Sometimes, it's not even something I did wrong, but rather something I did kind of well, but not great. I still see only the missed opportunities and not the all the successes.
And I've also felt like a failure as a writer. Part of my mind knows that this is absurd. The odds against getting published at all have been overcome. I don't want to share my number of sales of The Pride of Central publicly, but I will say it has long surpassed what I had expected.
But whenever I read a story where someone dove into literary territory I avoided, my mind whispers “failure”. When I hear about another writer who sold three times as many books as I have in half the time, “failure” echoes.
It shouldn't. Far more has gone right with The Pride of Central than what has gone wrong.
So how does anyone keep the whispers of “failure” at bay?
Encouragers. We all need them. We need them almost all the time, but we really need them when there is a chorus of “failure” being sung in our head.
It may be your family, your friends, your neighbors, your old schoolmates, your writing buddy...whoever. You need people who can remind you of all the good that has already happened.
For a moment, I want to be an encourager to any of the writers reading this post:
To the writer who is half way through your first draft, but thought you would be finished by now: you have succeeded. So many people have to stop before they have reached this stage.
To the writer who is frustrated with editing their manuscript: you have succeeded. No matter what happens in the editing process, you have already been able to tell your story.
To the writer who cannot find the right place to publish: you have succeeded. You have shown the courage to get your story out to the people who can get it to readers.
To the writer who released a book, but sales were less than what you hoped: you have succeeded. Even if you only sold one copy, you are an author who has been able to sell your own story. That will never be taken away from you.
Now, find someone else who needs encouragement. Another writer, maybe, or the athlete, student, singer or businessman. Give them the encouragement they need.
Let's silence the voice of “failure.”
Next week: Courage revisited