Failing Better

"Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better." ~~ Samuel Beckett, Irish playwright and poet.

Beckett's notion here, about failing better, warms my heart, gives me hope.

It's a new perspective in a much too competitive world.

Somehow in my modern-day, American-trained mind, when I do fail better it doesn't seem to count since I haven't actually won. But what is winning anyway? Can't failing better be considered winning? I think it can since winning is a process, not the actual momentary climax.

When I think of failing better I feel energized rather than demoralized. I see progress. I see steps being taken, lessons being learned, accomplishment in the little objectives that lead to the larger goal. Suddenly, the goal doesn't seem quite so important because I realize that it's the consistency of trying, understanding, and getting better at a thing that really matters.

The idea of accomplishment is rather elusive for in reality it is effort that propels me to what is considered success. Success itself seems to be the only concept valued. But actual accomplishment is merely a measuring stick, a plateau, a resting point. Its attainment creates, at least for me, the incentive to tackle something new, to begin the trying and failing once again in order to fail better to the point of success once again.

In the final analysis, it seems to me that trying, failing, and failing better are more the stuff of life than succeeding. Failure isn't bad, it isn't wrong, it isn't, well, failure, if you follow my drift. It's educational for those who allow themselves to be trained by it. And it is the path one must undertake in order to achieve a desired result.

Keep trying. Recognize failure and better failure as forward momentum gained. Realize that effort, consistently performed, over time, will always lead one to some sort of understanding and perhaps the achievement of a goal.

Or even a lovely dream.

Etiquette: A Defining Mark

"In the midst of the war, some French soldiers and some non-French of the Allied forces were receiving their rations in a village back of the lines. The non-French fighters belonged to an Army that supplied rations plentifully. They grabbed their allotments and stood about while hastily eating, uninterrupted by conversation or other concern. The French soldiers took their very meager portions of food, improvised a kind of table on the top of a flat rock, and having laid out the rations, including the small quantity of wine that formed part of the repast, sat down in comfort and began their meal amid a chatter of talk. One of the non-French soldiers, all of whom had finished their large supply of food before the French had begun eating, asked sardonically: 'Why do you fellows make such a lot of fuss over the little bit of grub they give you to eat?' The Frenchman replied: 'Well, we are making war for civilization, are we not? Very well, we are. Therefore, we eat in a civilized way."' ~~ excerpted from Richard Duffy's Introduction to Emily Post's Etiquette, written in 1922

"Manners are a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others. If you have that awareness, you have good manners, no matter what fork you use." ~~ Emily Post

As society's behavior becomes increasingly crass, a sort of aching throbs in the hearts of a few. Attached to the ache is a question. "Cannot we rise above self-absorption, vulgarity, and utility?" An affirmative answer confidently sings within such pure hearts. Yes. Yes, each one can choose to recall to life within himself the ancient civilities which set humanity on its course toward refinement. 

Perhaps, more than missing courtesy, deference, and certain dignity is the idea that without a common respect, life tends to be rather dispiriting. 

For everyone.

Creative Watching

In the perfume section of Macy's on Tuesday evening, my daughter and I witnessed one of those quiet, very human moments.

Middle-aged, tall, husky and clean-shaven with bushy brown hair sticking out from underneath a billed cap, his body enveloped in a black track suit with matching shoes, a long-striding man calmly entered the department store from the lively mall. Located on the fringe, the cologne selection's enticing aromas lured nearby shoppers, including the mall guy.

Perusing scents for men, this chap chose a bottle, sniffed, uncapped, then splashed a bit of the amber contents into his beefy hands. He began to, with gentlemanly form, quickly pat the liquid onto his face and his neck, then he rubbed his hands together smoothing the remaining cologne away.

I watched with delight! He seemed so confident I am sure he was a frequent snatcher of Macy's eau de toilette. He emitted an air of sophistication, somehow, under those baggy clothes.

Off he strolled, giraffing his neck and head as if looking for a particular someone, perhaps her.

If so, lucky lady. Her casually-dressed fellow samples only the best.

How fun to imagine many endings to the story all beginning with that one curious moment!

Creative watching.

That Flipping Attitude

Stewing on frowny thoughts saps energy and repels sweet interactions. Ugly.

What is it psychologists call the White Bear effect? You know, "Don't think about the white bear," then all you do is think about the white bear. It's a form of thought suppression and it doesn't work. The more you think about not thinking about something such as chocolate the more chocolate you'll actually eat.

Hmm. That's no good.

If thoughts lead to attitudes, and attitudes lead to choices, and choices lead to actions then does it make sense that focusing on a good attitude might turn a mindset around better than trying to suppress a bad attitude? Drink in the sweet-scented flower garden and you'll probably forget about the white bear.

This is how I snap myself out of frowny moments. I notice beauty and goodness.

I've found that when I invite loveliness into my mind, when I look for beauty, listen for it, and notice it I find myself making positive choices. And smiling more. My shoulders relax, my problems shrink to their actual sizes, my confidence rises along with a certain joy.

For example, some mornings, for reasons unknown to me, my mood upon awakening is negative, really looking-for-a-fight tense. I feel crabby, irritable, even angry. It's unpleasant. Really. Getting to the guts of this bad attitude requires a scanning of my thoughts. To what can I attribute this nastiness?

Unsurprisingly, the darkness is usually due to, well, absolutely no good reason, maybe a nightmare, maybe a violent or negative film watched before bed, or a hostile chapter consumed from a book, or, perhaps as for Scrooge, it could simply be a bit of undigested beef.

Once I realize that I'm not really angry at anyone, nor do I have a reason to be ill content, my attitude begins to flip from tense to relaxed. Just like that. This has taken some practice, you understand. A lot of practice. That flipping results not from avoiding the white bear but instead from realizing the beauty of my wiggling toes at the end of rested legs, the softness of my skin, the sun streaming in through the window or the rain pelting it, the smell of clean sheets or freshly washed hair, the touch of soft carpet under my feet, or the knowledge that the day holds promise for whatever reason.

Plentiful beauty exists around each one of us at any given moment. Sometimes beauty consists in the realization that my heart is beating, my lungs are breathing, and I have good memories of inspiring places and people I have known in the course of all this beating and breathing. Sometimes beauty is a startling foggy-shadowed twilight, sometimes the sounds of family members moving about, sometimes the voices of school children at the bus stop outside my picket fence. Sometimes it's the scent of tea and crumpets - my daughter really likes to make these British treats - sometimes it's a song lilting in my mind, or the refreshment derived from a cool drink of water. Oftentimes the beauty projects from the artwork in my home enticing me to pause and feel happiness, or the sunlight glistening off my little perfume bottles, or off of my husband's reddish golden hair. Beauty in the smile of James the local deli owner, Karen the grocery store checker, and Loren from down the street.

Sometimes this beauty is simply in realizing that I'm a child of God and forever will be. How I love him! His goodness is beautiful even when he is disciplining me because I know from experience that good will come of it. It always has. He is the one who has taught me about beauty in attitude, in transforming my mind through my thinking.

Beauty offers sweet, uplifting rest any time. Beauty takes our thoughts by the hand and leads us to life-affirming choices and actions, which ripple out to others creating a little space of hopeful connection in a world that suffers too often from frowniness.

"Love of Beauty is Taste. The creation of Beauty is Art." ~~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Tea Refinement

The spirit of the tea beverage is one of peace, comfort and refinement. ~~ Arthur Gray