Public Failure is the Most Loving Kind
In the past year I graduated college, got rid of 90% of my belongings, and moved across the country from the only home I know to the west coast, and established a life that both cultivates my passions and puts fresh baked bread on the table.
I did not write publicly about this or allow anyone to join me in my story in fear I would fail. I did not want to write about my life for fear it would be a disappointment to you.
The paramount of our move was the night Mat and I fell asleep in our car on the ocean with our pit bull in the back seat of our VW, with reclining levers for mattresses and towels for blinds. What if this meant a homecoming to sympathetic nods and an abundance of I told you so-s? But the thought persisted in the back of my mind; What if it didn’t?
That night I woke up to a moonlit sky painting the pacific. I remember playing with my dog on the beach astounded by the sheer side of bliss that life handed me with that agonizing trepidation of the unknown.
Now the unknown is known. The worst didn’t happen. In fact, the best did. I regret not allowing others to be part of my story for fear of being ashamed of making foolish life risks.
While I still have fears and trepidations that my life decisions could land me financially and physically in the same place I was a year ago, I also recognize these thoughts are very honest and incredibly human, so why not share them?
The naysayers and the ones that will mock me will do so no matter where I am in life. The individuals I love, respect, and cherish will cheer me on, no matter the outcome. So truth be told, I really don’t give a shit if my life is a disappointment to you or not.
I would rather inspire and be exposed as an honest “foolish” failure than only share with the world the end result pending it’s success. The people whose philosophies I emulate immensely are often the least disappointing when they are the most honest in their defeats.
If I fail, I want to fail publicly. Public failure is the most loving kind.