Sink With Dignity
Let me ask you something. Have you ever looked at your life--I mean really looked at it, sighed, and then asked, "Where the heck did it all go wrong?" Maybe you found that reason, and then fixated on it, or started to make a plan to get back on top. Maybe you just gave up. The number of paths one can take at this point are virtually infinite, yet the question somehow remains:
I'm pretty sure that the proverb didn't actually have cards in the original Chinese (maybe Mahjong tiles?), but the point is that life doesn't go smoothly--like, ever. I just finished with a very long government process that took well over a year to complete, and every. Step. Of. The way. Went. AGONIZINGLY AWRY! It was a massive pain the butt, and I'm glad it's finally over. But I digress. This process, coupled with a lot of conversations I've had with people over recent months have led me to think about how we deal with failure. Everyone says the same old, tired out advice that never seems to console anyone: Get back up and start again. To be honest, in true Schrodinger fashion, I both like and dislike this advice. Does it work? Yes. Does it help? NO!
It's the right advice, but not the right advice to give. There's a very large difference. More importantly, it doesn't help us understand why it's important to be okay with failure--it only tells us to get back up until we succeed. What we really need is advice that will help us understand how to successfully fail! The most important thing to do is to realize that failure is not a bad thing. This is hard. It's hard, even for me. Trust me: I'm the type of person who cracks pretty quickly under pressure, so admittedly this isn't exactly... practiced advice. However, the principles are sound, and I do eventually end up seeing things this way, if not at first.
I suppose the best way to explain this is to take a quick look at the following video from 1999's "The Matrix":
"Alright, Jake, where are you going with this? What does this have to do with failure or sinking ships?" Great question, hypothetical person! This has everything to do with it, and is the entire basis for my article: There is no spoon. For those that don't know, The Matrix is a film set in a post-apocalyptic future where AI essentially runs humanity over and then uses them as a power source--which, if you know how to science, is a really stupid idea. Using our bodies as a power source is like trying to power a jet engine with a potato battery (the original concept was that humans were going to be used as processors, but Warner Brothers decided it would be too complicated for a 1999 audience that didn't quite understand computers like we do today). Anyway, in order to keep humans "content", the machines created the Matrix: a life inside a computer set in the year 1999, without us realizing we are living in a computer simulation, run in the shadows by Agents: AI programs that could manipulate the system in virtually any way they wished to accomplish their programming. Despite the fact that it's actually pretty good, there are some really big plot-holes. Somehow we don't realize it perpetually stays 1999; somehow, when we procreate in the virtual world we are able to procreate in the real world; somehow people stop existing when Agents can inexplicably possess us because reasons. Yeah, they're a bit shy with some of the more important lore-building details. But for the moment let's suspend our disbelief. The main character, Neo, is rescued from the Matrix by a group of freedom fighters because they believe that he is "The One", a prophetic figure that will rescue humanity from the Matrix. So during the first film he does a lot of discovering about himself, and what he is capable of in the Matrix.
Fast-forward to this scene with Aang the spoon-bender (comedic name, not the actual character's title). Here, he's instructing Neo with a little tip about the nature of the Matrix, but is also teaching the audience a very important lesson about real life. First, since Neo is in the Matrix, everything in that world, his body included, is virtual. They sort of drive that home earlier in the movie when Neo is first rescued from the Matrix and asks why his eyes hurt, and the answer he gets is, "Because you've never used them before." So the world, and everything in it is virtual. This means that... say it with me now: "There is no spoon." To that end, those who realize that the spoon is not real are then able to manipulate it to their advantage. Characters in the Matrix are able to leap over buildings, fight a CGI army of Ctrl-Alt-Delete spawns from MS-DOS hell (again, comedic name), and even fly.
So what's the real-life lesson? Sorry to say, but your spoon is really there. Keep eating your cereal. The message in here is that any obstacle in our lives is actually not in our lives, but in our heads. I can see failure as a block, or I can see it as a new adventure unfolding. I'm not saying get back up and start again. I'm saying that you don't have to get up if you don't fall down in the first place.
Again, this is pretty hard; it's hard to grasp, it's hard to master, but is absolutely good for us. Frankly, I really think what sums it up nicely is the Jack Sparrow gif I posted up at the top. I'll just leave another one right here.
In the first Pirates of the Caribbean film (which, let's admit, would be total crap without Johnny Depp's genius portrayal of Jack Sparrow), the very first minute of screen time that we get of him, without a single line of dialogue, the visual narrative teaches us everything we need to know about this character: he is out for adventure. When he fails, he fails spectacularly. He doesn't give a rum's root what others think. He's not afraid to just move on and start another path when his last one blew up in his face. And perhaps most-importantly, he is not afraid of the failure right before him. We can ascertain all of that in the first few moments of his appearance. Jack, in this aspect, is cool. Be like Jack.
(Don't really. Pirates were murderous, plundering rapists, still are, and not even a movie based on a theme park ride can make up for that.)
The point I'm trying to make, using Captain Sparrow as a visual aid, is that failure is not and should not be a block. It may be hard to do, and we all probably will fail at this at first, but when you fail in life, just shrug and move on. When you dwell on the failure you just had, you let the depression-terrorists in your brain win. And let's face it: they've been doing a lot of winning lately, haven't they? However, this doesn't mean that your failures don't matter or should be ignored. It's merely a suggestion on how we should perceive them. We don't have the best hand to play--and we shouldn't. It's not the cards, but how you play them. The win, in this case, is how we lose. The greatest people in our history are people who understand that failure is a part of success. The only way to learn how to not lose, is to lose. So why not cut out that suffering if we are going to learn from those mistakes anyway?
So how do we do that? Actually, it's quite simple. Look around you. Look at your friends. Look at your family. Look at what you have, even if it's something mundane or taken for granted. Each of those is a source of joy and inspiration waiting to be tapped into by your ever-changing needs. Failure is natural. Our heartbreak as a result of that failure is natural. What is even more natural are the millions of opportunities that immediately open up that we aren't taking the time to see because we're so focused on the failure-monster right in front of us.
This is advice that I very strongly wish I had learned a long time ago. When I officially became an adult, I chose a path that, almost as soon as I had started on it, blew up in my face. It was a path that I had spent the better part of 3 years preparing for, and was ready to go all-in for. Because of that one path that didn't go my way, I regressed to a very depressing and pathetic state--and I stayed there for years, wallowing in the warm embrace of video games, mooching off of friends, and basically lacking any motivation to do anything for myself. I got into relationships that were rushed and therefore self-destructed as soon as they started. To make things worse, I got sick and because of the neglect I and others close to me gave, that sickness nearly killed me in the middle of the night. The resulting hospital bills, combined with a smart phone contract I foolishly signed onto even though I couldn't afford it, brought on a huge pile of debt. I tried to get a job, but let my anxiety and lack of motivation got the better of me and I quit/was fired after 3 months. Everyone said the same advice: get up and start again. And every time I heard that advice, I wanted to punch a Furbee (a furry child's toy that, when I look back on it, was the stuff of a Tim Burton nightmare).
What was it that really got me there? I finally got my crap together and realized the only way to move on was to let go of my failures. I stopped being frustrated about everything. I let go of the hatred I had in my heart. I opened myself up to new possibilities. I learned the importance of being myself, but also not letting my failures get in the way of where I was going--wherever that was at the time; who cares? It was interesting, actually. Not even a month after I had finally decided to move on and put my past in the past, I met Denise. I became a great person, motivated and ready to be a "me" again. When we started dating everything went the way I wanted it to, slowly getting better and better with the amount of care we both put into it. Then, 6 months into a relationship I had finally trusted myself to put stock and energy into again, she told me she had to move back to Taiwan. I got that straining feeling in my heart that said another iceberg of failure was dead ahead; we both knew that our relationship had to end at that moment. But as I opened my mouth to say I understood the situation, my response surprised even me. I just said, "What airplane food should I get?" It was that one line that started our lives together, in a path I never would have expected. And since then, I've been living here, making a life for myself, and being very happy about it. I've hit lots of rough spots along the way, but never as bad as before when I had trouble finding the motivation to deal with even basic things. Nevertheless I still have fallen flat on my face more than once.
Cards on the table for a second, guys: my business is failing. It has been for a while. Part of that really long process I mentioned before is actually steps to take a new path. If you don't know what that process is, too bad. You weren't one of the few people I was willing to tell, because I don't necessarily like blaring everything on Facebook to the 13.5
people who actually read what I post. Nevertheless, it's been a great lesson, and I can't help but imagine myself proverbially cruising to some imaginary port via the sail of my sinking ship, and when I get to that point, I will start the newest adventure that is surely to unfold as soon as I make landfall. Between then and now, I've been learning to just deal with failure like any insane pirate captain based off a theme park ride would do: sink with dignity!
I leave with one final quote, which has been brought to you by Avatar Aang--the real one, not "spoon-bender" up there: "When we hit our lowest point, we are open to the greatest change." Thank you for choosing Taiwanese Takeout!
Why are we so sad about the current state of our lives?
If there really are so many options for us in the future, why do we feel constrained? How come we think our lives are forfeit because life didn't turn out the way we wanted? Well, there are a lot of answers, and I don't think there really is one right answer to determine why we all eventually get to that point where we say, "I dun goofed in this life!" And while I had a few good ideas for this blog article to explain why, I realized that perhaps it would be better to focus less on the why we get it and more on the how we get out of it--or better yet: how we never get into that funk in the first place. I think a very large part of this has to be in our mindsets. No one ever plans to sink their ship. Yet it happens anyway. Here's a great piece of advice: When you sink, sink with dignity!
And by this, I mean let life crush you. Let it bowl over you like the cacophonous-sounding bowling pin you are--the kind we all are at some point. Heaven knows, I've sailed plenty of ships right into the depths of the proverbial drink. When life throws its worst at you--as it inevitably will--take it like a pro! I once heard a great Chinese proverb, which I constantly apply to myself. "Life is not about having all the right cards, but by playing a poor hand well."
I'm pretty sure that the proverb didn't actually have cards in the original Chinese (maybe Mahjong tiles?), but the point is that life doesn't go smoothly--like, ever. I just finished with a very long government process that took well over a year to complete, and every. Step. Of. The way. Went. AGONIZINGLY AWRY! It was a massive pain the butt, and I'm glad it's finally over. But I digress. This process, coupled with a lot of conversations I've had with people over recent months have led me to think about how we deal with failure. Everyone says the same old, tired out advice that never seems to console anyone: Get back up and start again. To be honest, in true Schrodinger fashion, I both like and dislike this advice. Does it work? Yes. Does it help? NO!It's the right advice, but not the right advice to give. There's a very large difference. More importantly, it doesn't help us understand why it's important to be okay with failure--it only tells us to get back up until we succeed. What we really need is advice that will help us understand how to successfully fail! The most important thing to do is to realize that failure is not a bad thing. This is hard. It's hard, even for me. Trust me: I'm the type of person who cracks pretty quickly under pressure, so admittedly this isn't exactly... practiced advice. However, the principles are sound, and I do eventually end up seeing things this way, if not at first.
I suppose the best way to explain this is to take a quick look at the following video from 1999's "The Matrix":
"Alright, Jake, where are you going with this? What does this have to do with failure or sinking ships?" Great question, hypothetical person! This has everything to do with it, and is the entire basis for my article: There is no spoon. For those that don't know, The Matrix is a film set in a post-apocalyptic future where AI essentially runs humanity over and then uses them as a power source--which, if you know how to science, is a really stupid idea. Using our bodies as a power source is like trying to power a jet engine with a potato battery (the original concept was that humans were going to be used as processors, but Warner Brothers decided it would be too complicated for a 1999 audience that didn't quite understand computers like we do today). Anyway, in order to keep humans "content", the machines created the Matrix: a life inside a computer set in the year 1999, without us realizing we are living in a computer simulation, run in the shadows by Agents: AI programs that could manipulate the system in virtually any way they wished to accomplish their programming. Despite the fact that it's actually pretty good, there are some really big plot-holes. Somehow we don't realize it perpetually stays 1999; somehow, when we procreate in the virtual world we are able to procreate in the real world; somehow people stop existing when Agents can inexplicably possess us because reasons. Yeah, they're a bit shy with some of the more important lore-building details. But for the moment let's suspend our disbelief. The main character, Neo, is rescued from the Matrix by a group of freedom fighters because they believe that he is "The One", a prophetic figure that will rescue humanity from the Matrix. So during the first film he does a lot of discovering about himself, and what he is capable of in the Matrix.
Again, this is pretty hard; it's hard to grasp, it's hard to master, but is absolutely good for us. Frankly, I really think what sums it up nicely is the Jack Sparrow gif I posted up at the top. I'll just leave another one right here.
In the first Pirates of the Caribbean film (which, let's admit, would be total crap without Johnny Depp's genius portrayal of Jack Sparrow), the very first minute of screen time that we get of him, without a single line of dialogue, the visual narrative teaches us everything we need to know about this character: he is out for adventure. When he fails, he fails spectacularly. He doesn't give a rum's root what others think. He's not afraid to just move on and start another path when his last one blew up in his face. And perhaps most-importantly, he is not afraid of the failure right before him. We can ascertain all of that in the first few moments of his appearance. Jack, in this aspect, is cool. Be like Jack.
(Don't really. Pirates were murderous, plundering rapists, still are, and not even a movie based on a theme park ride can make up for that.)
The point I'm trying to make, using Captain Sparrow as a visual aid, is that failure is not and should not be a block. It may be hard to do, and we all probably will fail at this at first, but when you fail in life, just shrug and move on. When you dwell on the failure you just had, you let the depression-terrorists in your brain win. And let's face it: they've been doing a lot of winning lately, haven't they? However, this doesn't mean that your failures don't matter or should be ignored. It's merely a suggestion on how we should perceive them. We don't have the best hand to play--and we shouldn't. It's not the cards, but how you play them. The win, in this case, is how we lose. The greatest people in our history are people who understand that failure is a part of success. The only way to learn how to not lose, is to lose. So why not cut out that suffering if we are going to learn from those mistakes anyway?
So how do we do that? Actually, it's quite simple. Look around you. Look at your friends. Look at your family. Look at what you have, even if it's something mundane or taken for granted. Each of those is a source of joy and inspiration waiting to be tapped into by your ever-changing needs. Failure is natural. Our heartbreak as a result of that failure is natural. What is even more natural are the millions of opportunities that immediately open up that we aren't taking the time to see because we're so focused on the failure-monster right in front of us.
 |
| "How's life going for you?" |
What was it that really got me there? I finally got my crap together and realized the only way to move on was to let go of my failures. I stopped being frustrated about everything. I let go of the hatred I had in my heart. I opened myself up to new possibilities. I learned the importance of being myself, but also not letting my failures get in the way of where I was going--wherever that was at the time; who cares? It was interesting, actually. Not even a month after I had finally decided to move on and put my past in the past, I met Denise. I became a great person, motivated and ready to be a "me" again. When we started dating everything went the way I wanted it to, slowly getting better and better with the amount of care we both put into it. Then, 6 months into a relationship I had finally trusted myself to put stock and energy into again, she told me she had to move back to Taiwan. I got that straining feeling in my heart that said another iceberg of failure was dead ahead; we both knew that our relationship had to end at that moment. But as I opened my mouth to say I understood the situation, my response surprised even me. I just said, "What airplane food should I get?" It was that one line that started our lives together, in a path I never would have expected. And since then, I've been living here, making a life for myself, and being very happy about it. I've hit lots of rough spots along the way, but never as bad as before when I had trouble finding the motivation to deal with even basic things. Nevertheless I still have fallen flat on my face more than once.
Cards on the table for a second, guys: my business is failing. It has been for a while. Part of that really long process I mentioned before is actually steps to take a new path. If you don't know what that process is, too bad. You weren't one of the few people I was willing to tell, because I don't necessarily like blaring everything on Facebook to the 13.5
people who actually read what I post. Nevertheless, it's been a great lesson, and I can't help but imagine myself proverbially cruising to some imaginary port via the sail of my sinking ship, and when I get to that point, I will start the newest adventure that is surely to unfold as soon as I make landfall. Between then and now, I've been learning to just deal with failure like any insane pirate captain based off a theme park ride would do: sink with dignity!I leave with one final quote, which has been brought to you by Avatar Aang--the real one, not "spoon-bender" up there: "When we hit our lowest point, we are open to the greatest change." Thank you for choosing Taiwanese Takeout!
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