Dead-End
A Short Essay on Failing
We so want to tell stories of triumph. And hide failure and defeat. It is easy to hide in our success, present our best face. The weight of failure stands on our shoulders. I failed. I set a goal and failed.
Why do I write about this, reader?
To remember one another that things will not always go according to plan. That we will not meet our wants, and it will hurt, and we will not feel all-right. We will hope to have learned from our mistakes, but maybe we will not. And the truth is that it will be hard to know if we do or not.
Our failures may not prepare us for better and bigger things. They may only signal the point at which a dream or project stopped.
About five years ago, I embarked on a somehow ambitious project of attending graduate school. I wanted to become a Nurse Practitioner, call the shots, get away from the daily routine of bedside care. Maybe even help people with their daily lives.
It seemed so simple for me to tell people to go, live their lives, eat somehow right, and play outside. That will solve most of everyone’s problems. And the reader may think, “Well, boy, I have this and this medical problem; therefore, I’m happy you did not make it.” and you reader; you may be right.
I don’t intend in this essay to discuss the nature of most chronic health issues affecting the population of industrialized countries.
But the nature of failing at one’s goals.
Some endeavors may require more than what we have. Or more than what we want to give.
In the end, I remember always having a level of uncertainty about going to school to become a Nurse Practitioner. I should have listened to my inner self.
As I grow, I notice how some things require more from us than others. Some may require a dedication beyond what we are able or willing to give.
Many have praised the decisiveness of those who step away from their comfort zone. I have no comment on the subject other than sometimes we may take a particular road and realize it leads to a dead-end.
©Pablo Pereyra 2021. Thank you for reading.
Thank you, Lucy Dan 蛋小姐 (she/her/她) for opening your publication to my stories. Thank you for connecting and being here.