1. Sam's avatar

    yeah I believe it is a familiar insight ,and you are well said.Each need each other.

  2. zelalemkassahun's avatar
  3. Sam's avatar

    A take at a time and you remind me of grace something I barely think of .I will be there…

  4. harythegr8's avatar

    This is quiet courage — not loud wins, but grace that kept walking through grief. Your words remind us that…

  5. camwildeman's avatar

failing forward

What’s something you would attempt if you were guaranteed not to fail.

If I Wasn’t Guaranteed to Fail

If failure wasn’t even a possibility, I’d still choose writing. Every day, every word, every late-night idea that doesn’t quite land — I’d still show up to write. Because for me, the real shift hasn’t been removing failure from the picture, but redefining it.


I used to see failure as the end of something — like a wall I ran into. Now, I see it as a signpost. It’s a moment of clarity that points out where I need to grow, or what to stop wasting my time on. Each “failure” clears the fog and teaches me something specific: what works, what doesn’t, and what I actually care enough to keep doing.

Writing has taught me that failure isn’t an enemy — it’s the quiet teacher that makes mastery possible. Every sentence that doesn’t flow helps me find one that does. Every draft closer to the voice I actually want to share.


Instead of trying to “avoid failure,” I’m focusing on building fluency through feedback. The more I interact with what doesn’t work, the better I understand what does. It’s like learning the way of truth — one honest attempt at a time.

If failure is clarity, then writing is the constant test of how clear I’m willing to be with myself.

Until next time.

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