The reason?
You expose yourself. Instead of playing in your “corner,” you’ve decided to reach out and see more. You got vulnerable.
When, not if, but when you fail, it sucks.
You have a few options after, one of which is to curl up into a ball and retreat to your corner.
A better idea, methinks, is to learn how to feel and understand suffering. Frame it as the cost of admission. Know that at the end of the ride, you’ll “be better.“
Losing doesn’t feel good.
I don’t care how you spin it when you lose and you give a damn, it hurts.
Emotional pain is real.
The difference, though, and what distinguishes a leader from anything else, is the ability to take that failure and turn it into a teachable moment.
This idea goes against most of our instincts. It’s easier to blame others.
Don’t.
Use the failure as a checklist and “do the work” of figuring out just what went wrong and how did it happen.
The payoff? You’ll be much more efficient because the things that hurt you in the past will scab and toughen up, and you’ll be ready to fight something new.
It turns out that emotional pain light up the same parts of the brain that process physical pain.
Whenever you see someone hurting, take a moment and address it.
Make them feel welcomed.
It sounds silly to say. However, we spend far too much time trying to convince ourselves it isn’t. “Walk it off” isn’t a real strategy. It’s a way not to be bothered.
Emotions matter. They shape the context of how we see the world. We aren’t robots. We are a beautiful mass of nerves.
It is worth spending some time today thinking about where the pain points are in your life.
Address them.
There is a stinging sensation that happens to me when I’m wrong
I get the stinging at the back of my head, and it makes my face twist.
I’ve recognized that as my ego doing a mad dash to my nervous system, trying to figure out a way to get out of “wrong.”
Maybe I could talk over, or bring up something from the past where they were wrong? Perhaps I can use my rank to quiet them down or get passive aggressive.
There are a million ways my ego can figure out to “win.”
Except there is no winning.
The right thing to do is to breathe. Take in that information and recognize that it isn’t about winning or losing; it’s about growth.
Breathe, and recognize my ego flaring up, get curious about why I am resisting and prepare to close the gaps in my knowledge.
Then, it’s back to work.
Pain serves a purpose. It’s a wake-up call.
The pain isn’t the problem. Pain is a signal, not the problem. We often miss the source. As a result, we lose the lesson.
Things like pain and fear are signposts for our journey, warnings for us to pay attention. They don’t usually lie.
In that sense, pain is a gift. Without pain, we limit our ability to grow.
Embrace the pain, don’t hate it – if we listen carefully, our paths become clearer.
You have to let your team scrape its knee.
Failure is a path to growth, and when you stop the team from scraping its knee, you cut that growth short.
We adapt. When we are on a team that we trust, we know that the pain we feel can evolve into value at some point. When you are working with a team long-term, this is important. Each failure turns into a lesson for you and your team.
Don’t shame, blame or guilt. Failure is information. It is a chance to regroup.
Doesn’t mean it isn’t painful.
Let that pain evolve into an experience, or you’ll feel more pain later.
I mean purely awful.
Are you ready to…
If you are, then you’ll learn something new.
Congratulations.
Now, are you ready to forgive yourself?
I think this question is more important than any other when it comes to doing something new.
The reason?
How rich our lives can depend upon on how willing we are to try new things and how often we can forgive ourselves when we do wrong because we’re not aware.
It seems vulnerable, and as a result, we think beating ourselves up absolves us of our “sins.”
However, the risk of rigidity is far more dangerous.
Those emotions aren’t the same.
We confuse our nervousness for fear, especially if fear is our default.
They are different, though.
Being nervous means it’s new.
As a result, “new” gives you jitters.
Those jitters mean you are on to something.
The next time you get those “jitters,” know that it’s time to decide.
Are you scared, anxious or excited?
When I’ve chosen fear or anxiety, I end up with regret. Disappointment hurts.
While the sun is painful and no pain no gain, the pain goes away.
Hurt lingers.
Our brains are fantastic tools. They do, however, come with some quirks.
One quirk is that it can’t tell the different between cutting your finger or a breaking up with your significant other.
At first, this feels counter-intuitive, until you remember how painful your last breakup was.
When the pain is physical, we trust our instincts. We clean the wound, wrap it up, and let that part of ourselves rest.
When there is mental pain, we try to “play through.” This action lets the pain linger and not fully heal.
If you broke your wrist, you wouldn’t try to play basketball.
So, two things:
From the desk of Adam Thomas 