Praise for Bad Decisions.
As 2020 is winding down, I’d like to take a moment in praise of bad decisions.
You know, those ideas that were grand in theory, but floundered in practice. Failures, if you will. Decisions that set you back – financially, emotionally, nutritionally – the kind that cause you to wake up the next morning to declare, “I’ll never do that again!”
We’ve all been there.
This year, I’d like to encourage you to look at those decisions a little differently. Instead of cataloguing each and every one of your failures into a giant list of all the things that are wrong with your life, what if you used that same list as an indicator of what’s perfectly right?
Far too many of us look in the rearview mirror and see our missteps as a source of shame or embarrassment instead of the badge of honor that they should be. Yes, you read that right – those failures should be a source of pride, because they are proof that you had the courage to step out of your comfort zone, try something new, take a chance.
Doing things wrong - whether it’s a bad business decision, dating toxic men, or ordering (and eating) a plate of loaded nachos instead of a healthier selection - is just part of the deal of life. Failures can be big or small, and they are not a commentary on your self-worth or a predictor of future outcomes. They are a sign that you are moving and stretching. The alternative is stagnation.
During this season of the year (and of life!), it is natural to look back on our decisions through the lens of acquired wisdom and try to extract the lessons - it’s one of the gifts of menopause. But if that exercise causes you to feel anything other than wonder and pride – you are doing it wrong.
You know you are on the right path when it is piled high with mistakes and failures and bad decisions – those are the footholds that get you where you are going. Without the hard-won lesson that each of those failures delivered, you would not have been able to take the next step. It’s true, you may not be exactly where you thought you’d be by now, but you aren’t where you were. That’s progress.
And failure paved the way.
So as you reflect on both the failures and triumphs of the year, and of your life thus far, I hope you’ll look more fondly on your “failure” column and celebrate all you see there.
In this case, bigger really is better.