Failure
Posted by Anne
Sometimes, I can share successful life in pencil moments. The moments when I’m able to say I achieved my goal of stepping back, setting aside my plans, and allowing a moment to unfold naturally.
Nope, this is not one of those posts. This is a post about failure, and starting over.
Over the weekend, I traveled to the Midwest for a whirlwind weekend to visit family, and celebrate my grandfather’s birthday. With only 3 days to make it from the Northwest to the Midwest, I knew this weekend wasn’t about rest and relaxation—more about capitalizing on family bonding time.
I was convinced, and I mean convinced my flight left at 5:00pm. Imagine my surprise, if you will, when I stopped off in my parent’s study around 11:30 to print my boarding pass and stumbled upon the following statement: Flight departs at 1:01pm. Woops.
After some quick calculations and a reality check, I knew I wouldn’t miss the flight. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was this: I hadn’t planned the afternoon to go like this. You see, I don’t get to see my family as often as I’d like, and every moment is precious. I’d planned an afternoon. And my plans were shot. Cue the meltdown.
The reason my reaction was such a failure? It should have been an opportunity to meet some life in pencil goals, which I failed to meet. Here’s a play-by-play of possibly appropriate life in pencil reactions, and MY reaction.
Situation #1: Plane departs in an hour and a half, and I haven’t packed.
Appropriate reaction: “Yikes! It’s a good thing I checked that flight time when I did! Hey Mom and Sis—Think you could give me a hand packing while I finish printing my boarding pass??”
My reaction: Burst into tears and watch mom and sister swirl around my room packing my things in a super-human feat of tidy and swift folding.
Situation #2: I realize I will not have time to accompany my sister on our planned lunchtime outing to one of our favorite childhood greasy spoons.
Appropriate reaction: “Bummer! If that restaurant has been around since I was 5, I’m pretty sure it’ll be there next time I’m in town.”
My reaction: Pout, and purchase some very dry pretzels at the airport that have zero hope of cheering me up.
Situation #3: I must forego my plans to kiss and hug my adorable nephew about 10 times before boarding my plane because he’s taking a necessary nap.
Appropriate reaction: Okay, this one could have deserved a tear or two. And then I could have allowed everyone to remind me that I’ll see him again in 3 WEEKS.
MY reaction: Inconsolable weeping, as though I’d never see the child again.
Situation #4: I had planned to say a leisurely goodbye to my parents, instead of a frantic one.
Appropriate reaction: Stick with the plan. I TOTALLY had time to say goodbye to everyone in a non-dramatic, non-frenetic, eminently normal manner.
MY reaction: Not so normal. Pouty hugs and feeble smiles.
Situation #5: Sitting at my gate (with time to spare), I realize I’d been a total drama-queen and failed to act in a normal (and “life in pencil”) manner.
Appropriate reaction: I could have simply said to myself, “Wow, this is not how I’d like to react in future situations. I’m not going to waste more tears judging myself and feeling embarrassed. I’ll simply reaction different next time, and hey…it’s bloggable.”
My reaction: Eventually I did find this reaction within myself…but not until I reached the Denver airport. I allowed myself to spend the first leg of my flight feeling guilty and childish.
You see? FAILURE. And all because I had to reconfigure 4 hours of my life. I’m not happy with my reaction, but this is why Beginnings are so important. I can’t erase that afternoon, and I can’t erase my reaction. But I can start over. React differently next time. Redeem myself. Here is my new beginning…my vow to myself:
Next time I encounter a hitch in my plans—I will:
1. Ask myself if I want to act rationally, or dramatically.
2. Pay attention to what’s going right instead of what’s going wrong.
3. Act flexible, even when I don’t feel flexible.
4. Spare others from the drama of my rigid planning.
5. Acknowledge my anxiety and frustration without judging it.
How are you at going with the flow? Have you ever unreasonably freaked out, and had to start over? When your plans change and you have to change your vision of your day, how do you react? How about when life takes an unexpected turn?
March 3rd, 2010 at 7:55 am
this is so not as bad as it could be. i didn’t see any evidence of blaming (why didn’t so & so inform me – it’s all their fault!) and your ability to see the events that transpired and your response to them is so amazingly mature. Giving in to your disappointment is not the end of the world. I still think you rock and I continue to be inspired by the opportunities to stretch that i find here in your blog.
March 3rd, 2010 at 8:26 am
Well, your counselor training hasn’t failed you. Just a couple of days post-meltdown you have an astonishingly accurate understanding of yourself, what went wrong, and what you’d like to do better next time. “Good awareness!” Given that the moment has passed, there’s nothing more you can ask of yourself than what you’ve already acknowledged in this post.
And we’ll make sure you get to give IEP a thousand hugs and kisses before we depart from our next visit.
March 3rd, 2010 at 12:29 pm
I know i’m not supposed to say this but I think I small tantrum was in order. Hey, you wanted to spend the afternoon with your family. And I love that your Mom and sister whirled around packing for you. That sounds like a priceless moment.
March 3rd, 2010 at 2:19 pm
Ummm Anne I think you just discribed my everyday life. I tend to be a total drama queen most of the time. After I met my husband I have learned to go with the flow a little better, and having kids is making it easier.
But I think we all tend to react with drama when things don’t go the way we planned and panic sets in.
March 3rd, 2010 at 4:25 pm
I have had a similar experience on a vacation. But it was on the way out instead of on the way home. My wife and I had taken a romantic getaway to Las Vegas for my birthday. We must have had the last set of paper tickets in the world and I was in charge of them. Safe to say I forgot the tickets at home when we went to the Airport. We wound up missing our flight and had to rush back home and get the tickets to be on stand-by for the next flight in 1 hour that unfortunately was not nonstop.
I felt really bad and my wife was really mad. But you know what? After all of the drama and fighting; when got to our gate. We found out that the flight was half full, we would still arrive with plenty of time to play, and a dear friend of ours who is by far one of the funniest guys I have ever known was sitting at the Bar waiting for his flight!
We then went from being totally pissed at each other to side splitting laughter as our friend relentlessly made fun of me for forgetting our tickets and bought three rounds of drinks.
Thank god we missed that flight!
March 5th, 2010 at 6:41 pm
I am terrible at going with the flow. A therapist once told me that I do not do well with “integrating negative information.” While I am relatively tough, I am not particularly resilient. I have no doubt that I would have reacted the way you did or much, much worse. (As Diane said, you didn’t blame anyone else for the mix-up; I likely would have.)
One of the reasons I so enjoy visiting Life in Pencil is the honesty that both you and Elizabeth bring to your writing. This was a remarkably human post: the error, the reaction, the reflection, and the hope to do better next time. Thanks for sharing your experience and giving me the chance to arm myself against my next battle against “negative information.”