How to Deal with Failure

How to Deal with Failure

I fail a lot.  In retrospect, my life has been a steady stream of middling failures occasionally interrupted by unexpected success – none of it of any earth-shattering magnitude mind you, just minor successes that birth in me a faint hope that such successes might be possible. 

It always amuses me to watch these patronizing motivational videos on YouTube or to read “inspirational” quotes on failure from those who may have known it in a former life, but who are now so far removed from it and basking in such paradigm shifting success that you wonder if they really remember what failure is like.  And when they are the ones telling me to go out there and fail, I wonder if they even know what they’re talking about.  It is easy to court failure in retrospect.  It is infinitely easier to wax nostalgic about the tunnel when you are clear of it.  It is infinitely harder to keep trying and to continue failing when you’re still in the tunnel with no end in sight. 

For those of us toiling in the dark, what we need is the volume turned down.  We need the platitudes and the Kool-Aid kept at a respectable decibel level.  Failure is hard enough to deal with, we don’t need to romanticize it or make those who are failing feel worse.  What we need is something to get us to put one foot in front of the other.  For those who share in this struggle, this is for you.  A lifetime of failure has taught me that it never gets easier, but there are strategies to help take the edge off. 

Life Diversification is Critical

Single minded pursuit of a goal is hailed universally as an unqualified virtue.  Surely, there is some truth to this.  Dogged determination is a necessary component to success.  But, there is a fine line that separates the giving of one’s life towards a singular pursuit and defining that life by the results.  There are pursuits and passions we should give our lives to.  But, we should never define or encapsulate the entirety of our existence on the resulting successes or failures. 

Dustin Poirier defeated Benoit Saint-Denis at UFC 299 and afterwards he admitted that his previous loss to Justin Gaethje took a severe mental toll.  Poirier has devoted his entire life to fighting and the loss made him consider retirement and that momentary failure took him through some severe mental health struggles because his identity was so wrapped up in being a fighter.  Alexander Volkanovski went through similar mental health struggles following his loss to Islam Makhachev. 

This is the same identity crisis that befalls retirees and empty nesters who cannot seem to fathom their lives without the occupation and the title that has defined much of their existence.  This is probably why businessmen, athletes and boxers retire and unretire fifteen or sixteen times before Father time finally makes it clear to them that they have had enough.  So many find it so difficult to define themselves as anything other than an athlete, a businessman, or a parent. 

This is a dangerous tendency – to get so focused on a single goal that the goal becomes not just a part of life, but the whole of it.

But, when we take a step back and reframe the perspective, we quickly realize that nobody is just one thing.  Our lives are multivalent.  We all have career pursuits and lifelong passions and we can work towards them with the same tenacity and determination while still remembering that no one thing defines us.  We are many things to many people.  We are neighbors, citizens and volunteers.  We are hobbyists, creators and philanthropists.  We are grandparents, siblings and friends.  There are so many other aspects of our lives that are significant and the more hats we wear and the more importance we place on those roles, the more emotionally stable we become when we encounter failure in any one area. 

This is especially necessary when we consider the fact that much of life’s successes and failures are due to factors entirely outside of our control.  Hard work does not guarantee success and singular devotion does not make us immune to failure.  I know of many hard-working people who went to their graves having never achieved what they set out to.  And I know of many lazy people who just backed into success.  The best that we can do is deserve success.  Guaranteeing it is beyond our capability.  Wrapping our identities around a coin flip or living and dying with every roll of the dice is a recipe for disaster. 

I take up important hobbies.  I spend time with family.  I write and I create.  I have other pursuits besides my God given calling.  To be sure, my God given purpose is my top priority and that will never change.  But, my other passion projects do not hinder my pursuit of the calling, rather they enhance it.  I am of no use to God if I were to live and die with every success and failure, especially because the results of pastoral ministry are so wildly outside of my purview.  I sow, but God alone gives the increase.  And the moment I begin to measure my life by successes and failures is the moment I begin to outlive my usefulness.  Because my perceived successes will ultimately lead to a pride that will render me unfit for His service and my perceived failures will invariably induce a despondency that will render me emotionally incapable of staying the course.

Diversification is my emotional ballast and it allows me to keep a sense of equilibrium that ultimately keeps me faithful to what God has called me to do. 

Focus on the Process, Not the Results

This notion of focusing on the process and not the results is cliché and banal.  True.  But, what is the alternative?  As stated previously, so much of life’s successes and failures are beyond our control.  It is folly to fixate on them and to make so much of them when, in the final analysis, they are, by and large, so random.  There are things we can control and focusing on those things are key to emotional health and long-term dedication. 

There are certain processes that, when coupled with determination and effort, give us the greatest probability of success.  We all know what they are in our given field of endeavor.  The key is to focus on what we can control – the input – and evaluate the results with an even-handed objectivity that takes into consideration the fact that our effort and dedication does not necessarily share a one-to-one correspondence to what we receive on the backend.  We may choose to make certain adjustments based on those results, but we refrain from making any final value judgments based on what is largely outside of our control. 

I focus on my effort and my faithfulness to the task knowing that what God chooses to make of it is, frankly, none of my business.  Whether He chooses to make much of it or little is entirely within the providence of God.  I focus on the input.  The output is not my department – that decision is way above my pay grade.

Lower Expectations and Remember that Only Quitting is True Failure

Jensen Huang, the CEO of NVIDIA, once said to a group of Stanford students, “One of my greatest advantages is I have very low expectations.  And I mean that.  Most of the Stanford graduates have very high expectations…. You’re surrounded by other kids that are just incredible.  You should have very high, you naturally have very high expectations.  [But], people with very high expectations have very low resilience.  And unfortunately, resilience matters in success.” 

Youth tends to distort reality.  It bends forward projections to its will.  The plans and aspirations of young men and young women are naively crafted and astronomically high.  And when expectations cannot go higher and the best laid plans are confronted with the vagaries of life, reality can be a very tough pill to swallow.  Mike Tyson once said, “Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the face.” 

I don’t know if I have lowered my own expectations out of a desire for self-preservation or if life has beaten lofty aspirations out of me.  I frankly do not care at this point, because the end result has been a salutary one.  I have absurdly low expectations now.  I have completely reframed my perspective now to where success is just about surviving. 

There’s a scene in Rocky when Rocky Balboa comes home to Adrian just before he is set to fight Apollo Creed.  Adrian is lying on the bed and Rocky sits down next to her.

ROCKY: “I can’t beat him…. I’ve been walking around thinking.  Who am I kidding?  I ain’t even in the guy’s league.” 

ADRIAN: “What are we going to do?” 

ROCKY: “I don’t know.”

ADRIAN: “You worked so hard.”

ROCKY: “Yeah, it don’t matter.  Because I was a nobody before.”

ADRIAN: “Don’t say that.”

ROCKY: “Come on Adrian.  It’s true.  I was nobody.  But, that don’t matter either you know?  Cause I was thinking, it really don’t matter if I lose this fight.  It really don’t matter if this guy opens my head either.  Because all I wanna do is go the distance.  Nobody’s ever gone the distance with Creed.  And if I can go that distance.  Seeing that bell ring and I’m still standing.  I’m going to know for the first time in my life, that I wasn’t another bum from the neighborhood.”

Okay, admittedly, this is a bit dramatic.  All Sylvester Stallone movies are.  But, you get the point.  Failure is much easier to cope with if you harbor no expectations of a spectacular victory.  When all you want to do is survive – failure and success are not that far apart. 

Moreover, it has become clear to me over time that quitting is the only true failure.  This is a mantra I repeat to myself over and over again when things get difficult and when times get dark.  The truth is that no game is officially won or lost until the clock hits zero.  I may not win.  It may even appear at times that losing is a foregone conclusion.  But, as long as I never quit, I will never officially lose.  There are times when I am getting absolutely pounded and all I want to do is quit because I cannot see how I can possibly win.  But, as long as I stay in the game, anything can happen.  The moment I quit, however, the die is cast and the outcome is official and there is no mechanism in place for me to come back.  If I get up, there is hope.  If I stay down, there is none. 

Additionally, I take great comfort in the realization that what I am currently engaged in is difficult, nigh impossible.  Many of you can relate.  But, because it is so difficult, few will want to engage in it which means that the entire field of play will invariably go to the one who can stay on the field the longest.  And I don’t have to wait out many competitors.  The harder the endeavor the fewer the participants in what eventually becomes a war of attrition.

And so my goal at this point is to be the one left standing when the music stops.  All I have to do – all I want to do – is to put one foot in front of the other and plod until the game is over.  This may sound defeatist and even sad, but in the back of my mind I know that the ones who can suffer the longest are the ones to whom go all the spoils.  We have seen this time and time again.  What separates the good from the great is perseverance and a high threshold for pain.  And in an environment that rewards grit, resilience is currency. 

And here is encouraging food for thought.  This generation is widely regarded as the most coddled, fragile and delicate group of men and women this country has ever produced.  And there is a valid reason for this.  Easy times have indeed created weak men.  Which means that being extraordinary no longer requires a perseverance that is abnormal or rare.  At present, standing out and standing above only requires a grit beyond one’s peers – a strength of will that is uncommon amongst common men.