I have mindfulness quotes on “failure” all over my cyber-interiors: archived in automated daily Calendar reminders, bookmarking apps, my Google Drive work or self-health docs. Basically, I’m housing tons of the stuff online in hopes of housing it as ubiquitously in my head.
Failure and adversity is awesome sauce– linked to the stuff that makes Richard Bransons, Sergey Brins, Oprahs, and literally ANYONE who’s ever been ‘success stories.’ It’s ‘because of’ not ‘in spite of.’ It’s antibiotics, steroids and fertilizer for your inside guns. You are shit out of luck without any crap in your life. It’s easy and logical to take all this to heart when the crap chute ISN’T shooting.
Human nature that, once the thing is going, our chutzpah dies away a bit. I’m struggling like hell right now with something so this is my crap chute shooting moment. Time to put down on paper an example of how big time crap fests were responsible for ushering me into the best, next, new things in my life. Or, not just the big time stuff…even any small nonsensical thing that led to a big thing showing me that everything has a reason and a way to move me forward if I receive versus resist.
Example 1: Big, Bad Love Story
A decade ago, I was harping to a friend about some romantic fall-out and he encouraged me to go out to clear my mind. Had I not taken his advice, I wouldn’t have that night and probably would never have met the man who would take over the next five years of my life in a technically terrible, doomed, ‘death by a thousand cuts’ relationship.
While in this dysfunctional relationship, he was my gateway into both good and bad things. Due to his line of work, the nightlife industry became a huge topography in my daily life. Out of all the clubs I rode around, I had my favorite– which happened to sit across the street from Robert Half Staffing. Countless bawdy to more professional bar-side conversations later, I had gotten to know many of them. One of them connected me to a company that I belong to, current-day, and introduced me to the world of recruiting. It was all organic, back-door happenstance given that I was a teacher with no ties nor knowledge to this industry, and this position existed as a need but not on print in any company or job board posting.
Recruiting is one of those professions that no one ever expects or plans for. Frankly, I didn’t start building a cogent concept of ‘recruiting’ until months after I was at the company. And, then, I fell in love with the career. Today, I love what I do. If it wasn’t for a random night out, followed by poor choices and big bad love, my career might be something completely different from what it is today.
End – word:
One day, your insides feel like it’s being shredded by heartbreak or the aftermath of an Oxycodine high. You wake up in a jail cell or a hospital ward. Your startup fails; your MVP (minimal viable product) flops. Your wife leaves you. Your sonofabitch business partners that are supposed to stand by you stab you in the back. You get sick. You get into an accident.
Colossal shit. Storybook writing = problem –> solution. There has to be bad apples at work before the rainbow. The bigger and badder, the better. It is hard if not momentarily impossible to appreciate the grander picture of things. Like, did it really have to suck this much and this way for me to get a win? And what kind of win?
But what’s the point of tearing up the shit to bits? From http://www.thisamericangirl.com/ bloggist: “Whatever decision I made, and whatever decisions I will make throughout the rest of my life, will lead me to whatever experience I need to evolve my consciousness.” Yes, yes to that. Doesn’t matter the circumstance, either. You are the artist. You take that paper canvas or that stone slate and you put yourself on the material and get on with it. Smile and rally the next time you bleed. May sound fanciful but fuckit and it is actually feasible: Bezos, Icahn, Jack Ma..hell- Genghis Khan– will probably agree with me: Be that girl in the Rumpelstiltskin fairy tale turning shit to gold.