What does a fundamental forward shift and learning to swim have in common?
When I was a kid, my parents put me into swimming lessons. I don’t remember how old I was, but I remember not wanting to go. Up to that moment, I’d been content with life in the shallow end.
But staying there wasn’t an option.
The first day of lessons, kids eager to launch themselves from the side of the pool surrounded me. Meanwhile, I stood shivering and waiting for the lesson to be over. I knew that eventually, maybe not this day, but soon, I’d have to go into the deep end.
Along the edge of the pool, the other kids giggled and squirmed. I wasn’t having any of it and backed further away. One instructor waved, encouraging me to move closer. From the viewing gallery, I sensed the Wise One’s eyes on me. (He’s my inspiration for “the look” that I cultivated so well it still stops misbehaving children mid-tantrum.)
I inched forward.
One-by-one, we jumped into the pool. This was the easy part. I’d done it hundreds of times before, and loved it — in the safety of the shallow end.
But when the instructors announced that to pass the class we’d have to jump from the diving board, a detail of which my parents failed to mention, panic shot through me like a ball racing around a pinball machine.
One added, “Your toes have to dangle at the end of the board.” The other gave us a visual. One hand plopped over the other, fingers fluttering. I hated these people.
Surely they were joking. Why would our toes need to be in that specific spot?
The day finally arrived. We marched dutifully to the deep end of the pool, each awaiting our fate. Some exuberant, others, mainly me, not so much.
Splash! Plop!
“Can I do it again?” Over and over, until …
It was my turn to step onto the board, my sloth skills in full effect.
“A little bit more. Get your toes over the edge.”
One tiny step forward.
“More. You’re almost there.”
The scratchy bumps of the board scraped along the bottoms of my feet.
“Jump!”
“No.”
“You can do it. We’re right here. Jump!”
“No.”
Actions or thoughts that propel us forward or yank us backward require consistency. It’s the key. The only question is if we’re willing to break the connection between our consistent negative actions or thoughts, in favor of positive, more healthful ones.
Think how consistent our behaviors and thoughts are when we’re stopping ourselves from moving toward the thing we say we want. That level of consistency, applied in a more beneficial, perhaps more challenging, direction, is a fundamental forward shift.
A fundamental forward shift is understanding that we get what we want through small, positively skewed, consistent actions and thoughts. It doesn’t matter if those actions are successes or failures, but how we think about those failures matters tremendously.
Like a lot of things in life, failure ain’t all bad. This reminds me of something Captain Jack Sparrow said in Pirates of the Caribbean.
The problem isn’t the problem. The problem is your attitude about the problem.
Few people would say, “I love failing!” Most times, failure sucks. It’s mentally and physically draining. Sometimes it’s embarrassing, like when you mean to dive gracefully into a pool, but bellyflop instead. Other times, no one sees our failure, but we feel like we’re drowning in it.
Consider this: without failure, we wouldn’t know how great success feels. In fact, we wouldn’t be able to define success. Failure builds resiliency. We learn and grow through our mistakes. When we navigate a failure, we feel better about ourselves and we learn what to avoid or change the next time. It teaches us we have the stuff it takes to succeed. We also figure out how to manage the negative emotions that bubble to the surface when we fail.
All that’s great, but the best thing about failure is that we don’t have to experience it to learn from it. When we see other people fail, we learn the obvious “don’t do what they did,” and we gain empathy. Seeing other people fail also confirms we’re not the only ones who struggle. For some, it might temporarily increase their sense of self-worth as they compare themselves to the person who failed.
Failure and the Art of Juggling
How to change your mindset and unleash your potential
There I was, toes dangling, dare I say fluttering, ever so slightly off the end of the diving board, and wanting desperately to be anywhere else but on the precipice of … okay, I’m being dramatic.
The point is, I wanted off that board and the only way off was into the water. I had to trust the instructors, but more importantly, I had to trust and believe in myself.
Through consistent effort (and an attitude adjustment care of The Wise One), I’d developed the fundamental skills that would move me forward. Had I attended the lessons, but refused to practice, that consistent, but negative behavior would have held me back.
The key is consistency, so why not choose the route that benefits us most? Why not choose positively skewed actions and thoughts?
Because we’re scared.
It’s okay to be afraid. Change is exciting, often overwhelming, and filled with uncertainty. But we’ve all heard it before. Uncertainty is where the action is. If we want different anything, then we have to embrace uncertainty.
DId I jump into the pool? Yes, and I did it again and again. Each time with less hesitation and uncertainty about the outcome. Experience does that, but consistency in thoughts and actions, positively skewed, made me keep climbing the ladder.
Here are 5 questions to help you with your fundamental forward shift.
- What contributes to your fear of failing or succeeding?
- What have you already learned about failure and success?
- How can you reframe your thoughts about failure and success?
- How would you describe failure? Is your description negatively skewed? Reframe it.
- What was your last success (big or small)? Describe it. How does remembering it make you feel?
If you want to dig deeper, grab a copy of ANCHOR: It’s not your every day journal … but it could be. Then, head over to Deckible and check out VIBE: The Extrovert’s Recharge Deck, The Confidence Reset, and The Stronger Man Project. Our digital card decks make personal growth practical.