Learning to fail

Making mistakes isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

Yes, yes, I know, it’s the only way to learn, have a growth mindset, be vulnerable, blah blah blah. I say that to my children all the time. But when it actually happens to you,?when something you do goes unexpectedly,?horribly wrong, when your intention and impact are completely out of whack, it feels just awful.

It happened to me recently and rather than sitting there with zen-like reflection and acceptance, nourished by the fruits of my new learning, I just wanted to crawl under a rock. My spirit shriveled. How did this happen? And to me?

When I ask leaders how they are with failure, most say that even though they know it’s a good way to learn, they find it pretty hard to actually deal with most of the time. They justify this heretical departure from the growth mindset script with a few clever caveats:?I don’t mind making mistakes as long as I wasn’t ‘just being stupid’. I’m okay with failure, except when I should have known better. Hmmm.

So, what’s getting in the way?

• For some, the shame of getting something wrong is excruciating, especially if their story to date (publicly at least) has been one of high performance and few missteps.
• ?It’s a short walk from shame to blame, either of yourself - “I’m an idiot” – others – “They’re wrong, unfair, not worth listening to” - or the situation – “the system, process, culture is at fault”
• And then, instead of this just being something I did, it becomes about who I am: I didn’t fail, I am a failure. Goodbye calm and rational learning, hello demons.

My recent brush with failure has brought me to reflect on what helped me emerge from under my rock of shame and despair, not only to face the music but maybe to even enjoy it.

??Step one: slowing down and noticing my reactions. Feeling the shame and regret, then the anger and frustration, spotting the move from criticising myself to criticising those around me and looking for excuses. Letting all that happen, accepting it’s natural and it’s probably all a little bit true and then deciding to not let it rule me.?

??Step two: talking it through with someone I know believes in me unconditionally. Being able to explain what happened and share my own reactions in a space of absolute trust and positive regard; knowing I would not be judged, helped me face up to my mistake. It was like being able to put my toe in the water because I knew I had a life vest on.

?? Step three: finding role models.?I was lucky enough to be facilitating a peer learning group only a few days later where participants shared their uncertainties and failures. It was grounding for me to be in the company of others so willing to be open and humble about what they had got wrong. If they could do it, so could I.

Sometimes when I’m on a long car journey something happens up ahead that snaps me out of that instinctive, autopilot way of driving and makes me sit up and more consciously pay attention to what I’m doing. I’m always grateful for those?moments that remind me that I can't take being a good driver for granted and that we all have our blind spots and need to check them regularly. So, I’m going to take the same approach with my leadership failures – using them to sit up, to pay attention, and to keep on driving.?

How are you with failure and what helps??