Failure

Here's a poem I wrote:

Failure

Anger, frustration, embarrassment, pain.

I wonder why it hurts.

All-consuming thoughts,

anxious for redemption.

Why has this happened?

What are you telling me God?

Jealous of success,

unaccustomed to failure.

I have to come through...

but why?

This is a poem that I wrote last night for “Sunday Night Smoke.” In “Sunday Night Smoke” we all get together with a cigar or pipe (no cigarettes) and read poems. Sometimes guys will read poems that they’ve found or the lyrics to songs that they enjoy, but mostly we encourage originals.

I wrote my poem on failure because failure is what I experienced on Saturday. If you’ve read some of the other blogs, you probably know that we went skeet shooting.

Skeet shooting is something that I really enjoy, and I’m usually pretty good at. Saturday was different. After I had picked out a shot-gun, I stepped up to the plate. The gun was a little lighter and shorter than I was used to, but I thought that would be a good thing. It was not. I missed all 5 clay targets that were thrown in front of me. I have literally never missed 5 in a row before, not even my first time shooting.

After the 3^rd one that I missed, Mark said “I think it’s the gun.” Then I missed the 4^th one and he said “pretty sure it’s the gun.” When I missed the 5^th one he said “dude, it’s the gun. Get a new gun.” I felt a small sense of relief, but not much.

Last year, we did the same thing. We had 5 shots per person. I hit all 5 targets. Then we went out hunting for quail. I took two shots...killed 2 birds. I didn’t miss anything significant all day. Naturally, this year, I had every reason to believe that I would hit at least 4 out of 5. I expected it.

I’m not used to failing; I’ve always been pretty good at most things that I’ve tried. I’m not really spectacular at anything, but pretty good at most things.

For instance, I got up on a wakeboard the first time I tried. By the end of the day, I was jumping from one side of the wake to the other. On my 6^th time, I landed a flip.

It’s been this way as long as I can remember. I don’t fail much. I don’t allow myself to fail. I always feel like I have to come through, but why?

I’m starting to realize how truly afraid I am of failure. It’s shaped my life more than I’ve known. Looking back, I see how many times that I chose safety over risk. If I’m honest with myself, I can see that I majored in finance because it was safe. It’s a “go anywhere, do anything” major. Not much risk involved, you’re practically guaranteed a job after college.

When applying to colleges, I got accepted to Miami of Ohio. I actually went up there to audition as a vocal performance major. They accepted me into the program and offered me a scholarship. I didn’t take it. Why? Because I was afraid. What good is a vocal performance major anyway? What am I going to do with that? “Either I’ll be famous, or be a music teacher” I thought to myself. It’s very unlikely that I’ll be famous, and I DON’T want to be a music teacher. Music teacher was “failure” in my eyes, so I didn’t bother trying.

When I was a kid I was a pretty accomplished child actor. I was in a number of large production plays. I received praise from many people, whether it was other actors, theater goers, or even newspaper columnists. I wanted to be an actor when I grew up. Then I was in a professional play. All of a sudden I realized that these people were “professional actors.” They did this for their career. They couldn’t have been making a lot of money. Once I saw that there was a VERY slim chance that I would make it as a famous actor and the alternative was being THIS kind of professional actor, I didn’t want to be an actor anymore. I wasn’t willing to take that risk. I was afraid of failure.

I knew I was pretty good at singing and acting, but probably not the best. I was afraid of failing, and success was measured in money. Failure meant not being rich. I wasn’t willing to take that chance, so I decided to devote my life to something where I was likely to make a lot of money: Finance.

I’m still unpacking a lot of this, but I know 2 things: I’m afraid of failure, and I’m afraid of not having money. I’m seeking The Lord in both of these things and gradually finding healing. Evidence of that can be found in the fact that I took this job at Training Ground. I have to “raise support” while I’m here. Talk about stepping out of my comfort zone and subjecting myself to the possibility of “failure.”

That’s all for now.