I've been successful at several careers now. In only one of those can I say a level of skill was achieved that would be recognized as mastery. I wouldn't characterize the experience in other careers as failures. They weren't dead ends, full stops like the word "failure" would suggest. They were rich experiences that got me to the next endeavor. Rocket ships fail, leaving a heap of smoldering wreckage. Plumbing fails, leaving a monstrous mess to clean up. My previous careers were more akin to booster rockets - they consumed tremendous energy, served their purpose, and in the end burned out and were jettisoned. There were, however, plenty of lesser failures along the way.
During the early phase of my career explorations, my strategy could best be described as one devoted to finding success and avoiding failure. It was as if failure was always hunting me and every decision I made was designed to keep me hidden from failure and as many steps as possible ahead of or away from failure. Aversion to risk was high and decisions were conservative.
Over time, my strategy has shifted. I still have a keen lookout for risk, yet I am no longer running from failure. In fact, I now hunt failure. It's a dogged battle. How can I find failure before it finds me? What can I leverage from my skills and experience to stealth pursue failure and bite at its heels. More frequently, though, we meet at the same clearing - face-to-face - having successfully tracked each other. It's an easy meeting, relaxed. having found each other there is no need for battle. No need for damage. Just a frank exchange of ideas.
Knowing how things and events can fail is the precursor to meaningful and satisfying success.
Photo by Wolfgang Hasselmann on Unsplash