Diary of A Failed Communications Officer
Yesterday I failed and ended my attempt as a communications officer.
Despite my sincere effort, I earned my failure. I should apply a soothing balm of excuses, recriminations, and rationalizations to this raw pulsating wound but why should I be ungrateful and deny the gift of urgency? Failure has placed me in a space I’ve sensed I needed to be for some time; a desperate position to explore, to create, to fail with the utmost intensity of every thread of my being. The brief tenure was a blundering offbeat tango where I never felt the rhythm to practice my craft in the hope to one day become a lynchpin (thank you, Seth Godin). My failure is mine and mine alone. The spirit of how I faced the problems of my former position was spoiled with escape routes to hide and not do my job. My vital lies were my crutches to mediocrity. Because I had the comfortable justifications to coddle me, I never involved myself deeply into understanding my former organization, its work, and what made it unique and worthy to be shared across the digital world.
By earning my failure, I gave myself the opportunity to face the real issue at hand: my insecurity in my abilities as a communications professional. Self-doubt was the poisonous blood coursing through my veins congealing any meaningful attempt to do good work, to create something special, to fail, fail again, fail better (thank you, Pema Chodron).
This is the maiden post in a series where I will risk to fail in learning to become a better communicator, risk to experiment, and risk to expose the trueness of myself in my creations.