The Man In the Arena
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.
Theodore Roosevelt
I first heard author and social work researcher, Brené Brown, reference this quote and go on to describe the ‘face down in the arena’ moments of life during a time of great, personal failure. Those experiences of our deepest defeats are filled with a lot of lies about what it means to fail.
In our heads, we all likely know that failure is simply inevitable. In the arenas of work, love, family, and side-hustle, the opportunities to fail keep abounding. And as we consider all the ways we can fail, or perhaps after our own painful failure, it is so easy to wish away the shortcoming.
So, why is it important for creatives to fail?
The very crux of our ability to create captivating and soul-churning work hinges on our vulnerable relatability. If our art, words, design, or any other venture, does not level with the heart of human failure then we’ve missed the point entirely. Unforgettable creativity is marked by the imperfection of failure.
What we do with failure once it happens, and how we approach our future failures, has the ability to grant us either the greatest freedom or keep us in the greatest shame.
It’s time to start leveraging our failures.
I love a good list, so here are the approaches to failure that can prompt momentum and courage, rather than defeat.
1. Expect to get dirty. I love that description Roosevelt paints for us, the man in the arena is covered in dust and sweat and blood—it’s not a pretty picture. We all want to look like we are effortlessly ‘winning’ in the arena. The second we can give up that sought after veneer, is the same second we can embrace the inevitable messy moments, instead of fearing them.
2. Use those failures and shortcomings as a way to connect with your team, client, or any community. No one on the pedestal of perfection is relatable. When I see creatives openly and honestly saying to the people around them Hey, I don’t know how to do this or This isn’t my best work, but I know we can make it better—that’s when real collaboration starts. And the very best work is born out of genuine collaboration.
3. Hold your work loosely. This is a hard one. How can we care deeply and fully about our work without gripping onto it for dear life? So many of the experiences I categorize as ‘failures’ in hindsight might not have been true failures at all, they were just new directions. Perhaps our original idea isn’t what comes to fruition at all, but that doesn’t equate failure, instead we might have just stumbled upon something far better. Being open to fresh directives, new possibilities, and even entirely different outcomes frees us from that sense of failure and grants us more meaningful victories.
4. Know that it hurts to fail. We can’t address failing without acknowledging the realest part of it—it’s painful. I know I opened this as a peppy list for ‘momentum and courage’ but the sting of failing is real. The more we invest our greatest effort and the deepest parts of our heart, then failing is all the more painful. So, shouldn’t we do everything in our power to avoid it?
Here is where Roosevelt seals the deal for me, just as he makes failing in the ‘arena’ sound like something I would never sign up for, he gives us the alternative—‘those cold and timid souls, who neither know victory nor defeat.’
I’d rather sit with the messy fighters who ‘fail while daring greatly’ than make my place where there is no defeat, but also no victory.
Failing is painfully purposeful. It levels our work and our hearts to make us that much greater. Find people, friends, and colleagues who are honest enough to talk with you about their own failures and dust you off when you make your own missteps.
Start daring enough to leverage your failures instead of fearing them.