“What is failure?” Her big eyes looked up at me with the power of question, not knowing whether or not she wanted to really hear the answer.
“Is it good or bad?”
I was not sure if the questions were going to end, or if this was just the beginning of the circle and the what’s and how’s and when’s that would invade my brain with too much uncertainty to answer correctly.
There it was. The moment of judgment.
“Correctly”…
The what if’s, the judgment, the belief that I had to do it right.
There it was.
As clear as day, shining me in the eyes like a spotlight in the pitch black that I couldn’t even identify.
Blinding…
I thought about it for a second.
“Failure is…”
And I couldn’t complete it.
Her eyes were growing tired of waiting.
Looking into the light that was above her, as mine glanced down into hers, more blinding than before.
“Failure is just a thing.”
I continued not sure where the words were coming from… I just knew I wanted so badly to believe them.
“The emotion we attach to it is our human journey.”
I think I confused her.
I confused myself.
As she turned to leave, her eyes met mine once more.
“So why is it so hard to get it wrong?”
And with that, she was gone.
I thought for sure I was imagining things. She just disappeared into thin air.
Poof.
Gone.
She didn’t even wait for the answer.
And I am sure it’s because she knew I didn’t have one.
I owned that moment for years.
Knowing that the conversation in my own head would mirror time and time again what I thought I knew.
I couldn’t be perfect.
I would fail.
And the little girl inside me demanding answers for each failure would be ok anyway.
And that day came when I finally let her go.
She is somewhere on a plane to San Diego…
I think I left her there holding my empty coffee cup.
