Fail Better

'Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.'

I was just twenty-five when I discovered that quote by Samuel Beckett and I've carried it around with me like an amulet ever since because despite the hundreds of books dedicated to the art of failure, nobody has ever put it as succinctly as Beckett. There's a warm reassurance in his words that soothes the soul like honey in tea. Whether it's the eternal Battle of Cookie Jar, an attempt to progress your career or the many complications of parenthood, his statement is applicable and timeless.

One thing I have learned in my thirty-four years is that failure is not only a normal part of life, it is a sign of a life well lived. In January 2011 I developed M.E and spent the following 6 years waging war against my own body, never able to do much and feeling as though I was failing at life. I didn't go out, I lost a number of people I had considered friends, I lost my job and came close to losing my car and our home. I blamed myself for all of it. It was my failure. I had allowed myself to get so ill my body no longer knew how to function. Of course, that wasn't entirely true and over time, I realised that dwelling on my perceived failure was probably making me more ill.

As soon as I began feeling better, I set about the business of failing - or, as others might call it, 'living'. And I failed a lot. I got myself a part-time job that I was terrible at. I took up gym classes I couldn't follow, flailing my arms about as though I was lost at sea and trying not to pass out in a pool of my own sweat. I went to a pottery class and crafted lumpy bowls that never balanced perfectly and cracked as soon as they were fired. I went to a class to learn how to use my sewing machine, then never touched it again. Almost everything I tried to do resulted in dismal failure and humiliation but I kept going because each and every time I failed, Mr Beckett would whisper in my ear that I hadn't failed as badly as I had the first time.

The wise words of a man who died just four years after I was born continue to serve as a guide through my everyday life and will do so, I hope, for many years to come. The message behind them is clear: if you never failed, you've never really lived.