If you enter a competition and win was it luck? You had to choose to enter – so was it choice rather than luck? Did you make a choice and get lucky? Or did you win through choosing to enter? Now I’m getting dizzy. Enough questions. I feel to a certain extent you create your own luck. Or magic. The magic of life, not card tricks and illusions.
If you have a willingness to try, failure becomes part of the journey; to fail is part of travelling the stepping stones of life that take you where you want to be. If you see possibilities and potential instead of doom and gloom, you have far more chance of making it to the next step.
A hurdler never clears a hurdle by thinking about it. A hurdler never reaches the end without crashing a few hundred times along the way. Bruised knees, cuts and grazes, mistimed jumps, injuries and countless frustrations, then success after a million opportunities to give up in-between. Or become a sprinter 🙂
If your dreams, hopes and wishes seem distant or non-existent, impossible even, maybe you are not failing enough?
Maybe failing is part of creating your own magic?
Back to the competition – you won tickets to a magic show….
You are in the audience, awaiting magic. The magician endeavours to comply – black hat, no rabbit. Faulty wand? Stolen bunny?
The lights dim, frantic commotion, muttered whispers, lights return, wand flashes, rabbit appears. It works this time, yet the trick has lost momentum. From entertainment, through expectation, to failure.
Throw what you’ve got – eggs, tomatoes, anything – make it known the magic is off, and you will be soon after calling a taxi.
Shocking performance, tell friends, share experience – magician lousy – don’t bother.
And yet if the rabbit appeared first time round would the trick, the illusion, an old one, really impress you anyway? Done before many times, so unless the rabbit came out wearing sunglasses and juggling coloured balls I doubt you would have given it a second thought.
Mediocre trick successfully negotiated everyone happy, no thought needed. Yet failure – that’s unacceptable, free tickets or not – shout, curse, throw stuff, complain; throw him out of the magic circle, he shouldn’t be in there in the first place – who let him in?
The weight of mistakes the curse of failure; the perfection of being a spectator.
From back here, easy to judge, knock, analyse, criticise. In the audience you blend among the masses, on stage, the light is on one lonely trier who had an off day. Poor rabbit!
Spare a thought for the hundreds of times the magic was flawless, outstanding, dazzling. Think how you would feel in the magician’s shoes.
On occasions might we expect too much of ourselves and others?
Don’t let failure dampen your dreams – the mistakes are part of the journey. It’s tempting to merge with the crowd and shrink.
Instead of waiting for magic to happen – might you create your own magic?