Have you ever climbed a mountain? Not a hill, or gone for a hike. But climbed a mountain.
No?
Neither have I.
So let’s not talk about mountains. Let’s talk about failure.
Anyone who has ever tried anything has failed at something. The best in the world were also once the worst.
There’s an excerpt of a speech I love by Teddy Roosevelt. He was speaking in France way back in 1910, and this is a small part of his speech.
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.
I recently asked a friend of mine what my most defining characteristic was. They told me it was “a distinct lack of fear of failure, not the idea that you won’t fail. But a complete acceptance of the fact that you’re going to fail, probably spectacularly, and you’re ok with that.”
Not to toot my own horn, but that’s pretty cool.
When I first wanted to work in advertising, I called every single advertising firm within thirty miles of my house and asked if they were hiring. If I didn’t have an unlimited cell phone plan I would have gone bankrupt.
Want to know the worst part? None of them hired me! I also was seventeen, and still in high school.
But then I just started doing it. I worked with small businesses, getting meetings through cold DMs, just walking in, all the methods. And then that was my job for a while, a self employed, freelance advertiser.
Not because I was especially good at it, but more because I just did it.
It’s not that failure isn’t an option, it’s actually the expectation. I love that game. Sometimes I feel like a gambling addict, I love that life of building something, and it might not work but if it does awesome. I’m the epitome of “if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly.”
Which is fun, when I’m alone. When there’s no one I need to lead or worry about.
The other day I talked about where toughness comes from, and the general thesis there is that it comes from removing the unknown elements. What’s known is not feared.
My approach to failure wasn’t developed through climbing mountains, years upon years of training with ninjas. or meditational retreats.
My approach to failure was developed through failing, a lot.
My greatest asset is failing far more often and at far higher magnitudes than your average person.
When I first wanted to get a job, I was fifteen, and tired of the odd jobs for my dad. I went to my local strip mall, and I walked into every single store looking to apply.
I just looked it up, of the thirty eight stores, I had one interview. I got the job, but they needed me to work during football practice. So that didn’t work out.
Could you imagine getting told no thirty seven times in a row on a Saturday afternoon?
I like to workout, lift weights, the whole thing. I started this when I was thirteen? Maybe fourteen. And ever since then, my standard in the weight room has been world class.
Let’s not get confused, I as a lifter was not world class. But my goal was to be world class.
I would go online and google “best squats” and then after navigating through some unsightly things, I would google “squat world record” and would set my sites on those numbers.
I got really strong, stronger than most grown men at only fifteen. But I also failed spectacularly on a regular basis.
Failing on those levels sucked. I was embarrassed, insecure, and annoyed. But all it did was add to this idea that I am going to fail, and that is ok.
But that mindset gets me in trouble.
Especially when I’m meant to lead.
In relationships, leading teams, students whatever.
Without hesitation, thought, or any education, I’ll seek to learn by doing.
My greater regrets boil down to things I’ve rushed into. Moving in with a girlfriend too soon, quitting my own company because I was bored. Things that, had I sat down and decided to let that fear of failure creep in, I would have not done. I should have not done.
Being the man in the arena is great.
It’s fun.
But it’s also lonely.
The man in the arena is not a leader, he is someone others are inspired by.
He is someone people look to with awe and excitement. He is a hero.
But he’s not a leader.
My desire to be this man in the arena is warranted in some areas of my life. Most, I’d even say.
My greatest victories and harshest defeats come from this mindset.
But if I could do it all over, I’d make the arena my workplace, not my home.
It’s one of those things I’m learning as I get older. There’s a time and place for mindsets.
One of my favorite quotes comes from Oscar Wilde, “Everything in moderation, including moderation.”
There are times to go absolutely bananas and leave it all on the field.
At the same time, there are instances in which easing your way in is the wise choice.
The best leaders are not the ones who scream their way into battle. The best leaders are the ones who’s team get out ok. Whether that’s ending the work day with their mental health intact, make it up the mountain, or fall asleep happy.
In my pride, haste, arrogance, whatever you want to call it. I’ve done far more harm than good rushing into things. This next time around, I’ll be taking things slow. Aggressively having to fight the urge to dive into something I see has promise.
Obviously this has been more of a personal essay and reflection on myself. But I hope something in here clicked for you. Being the man in the arena is not a bad thing, it’s more admirable than most. But knowing when you’re in the arena, is the next skill to develop. At least for me.
Thanks for reading this far, I’ve been dropping a little question of the day at the end of these. This week’s question loosely follows the arena theme.
When they were building Rome, laying the foundation of roads, building the coliseum. Do you think they knew what they were building? That the bricks they laid would be creating the foundation for human thought for centuries to come? That they would inspire the creation of one of the greatest films, The Gladiator. What were they building?
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