Failure: A Beagle Blown to Screech Attention
Whatever the drill is, life opens up to you with plates made of gains and pains. You are fortified along your unique paths by the drips you lose on your way towards becoming the gem you are. Being perfect isn’t the bang! What cuts through you is your humanity voicing itself through every failed and won victory you now can trace. The world is too much with you on every side still, the closer you get to those things that matter to you, the more estranged you become.
Thus, words like “lose”, “fail”, and “loss” should relatively be treated as private if not sentimental responses to life. That is, when you lose or fail someone or something, no one is qualified to shot you off or write the devil a pass-note about how fit you did be for the bottomless path of hell.
Life can be floppy, no doubt, but your humanity isn’t. It is tenable to nail it in that negative intentions permeate our desires to be sometimes and the more we have, the better our chances at vying off the plane of simplicity. No wonder, the biblical parable forbade the singular talented servant. I don’t want to join the bandwagon of commentators who concludes that he failed. No, he didn’t fail. He only made a choice to remain who he was before he became the custodian of the talent.
Failure isn’t and shouldn’t be a beagle blown to screech attention. If you want to teach a child how to work then pay attention to the steps (s)he tries to take and not the falls (s)he makes.
Our life mirrors our choices. You really don’t get to live large because you are so good at making the right choices, it’s all a game of risk — a blend of the good and the bad. So when you win, take some chill pills knowing things possibly could have gone South. And when the risk overwhelms you, push on knowing that a battle never ends, what ends is the noise around it. There isn’t a better judge in human form anymore. Let God be God because no one ever matches his role.
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I guess I have ranted too much on a simple thought. A chilled bottle of Coke will do. The weather sent some provoking rumour to the sun. Here I am parboiling as though my name made it to the top four on the list of the punishable. I need not swear on this, this weather is hot.
