Category: Life

A How of Success and Failure

Over the past year, I’ve had questions from time to time about my weight loss from people wanting to know – what else – how I did it. I never addressed it on the blog, because (a) that’s not really the focus of this blog, and (b) the answer is really boring. (I used MyFitnessPal to track my calorie intake, and cut out refined/processed carbs and sugar. That’s it. I told you it was boring.) But then, recently, I was talking to my husband, who is now working on losing weight and overhauling his diet to deal with his GERD symptoms, and I realized that there was a post about this that I wanted to write, after all. Indirectly, it’s about a “how” … not necessarily of losing weight, but rather a “how” of doing anything that is difficult and maybe a little scary. It’s a pretty simple “how” but, somehow, one that didn’t dawn on me until this past year and which seems, from talking to my husband, to be overlooked by others as well.

Before I go on, let me digress for a second. I emphasized that this is a “how” – only one. Maybe not even the most important one. (I think the most important one is deciding to commit to doing something difficult and scary, and deciding that it is so necessary to your personal fulfillment that not doing it is no longer an option.) There is no one, sole way of accomplishing any goal, and no magic secret that takes you all the way. Success, in my experience, is made up of little decisions – some so seemingly insignificant that you don’t even notice them – and the only thing they have in common is that, in some way, they propel you forward. Or sideways. Sometimes, the success you end up finding is not the success you thought you were searching for. I can’t tell you how you get there; I have no idea. But I do know that you won’t get there if you anticipate failure.

“Well, duh! Who starts any goal by anticipating failure, anyway?” you scoff. And I’ll tell you: most of us. I did it, for years. Let’s take my book, for example. I have been trying, in one form or another, to write that very same book for about a decade. I still have drafts on my oldest computer – of the first chapter, of the second or third attempt at an outline, of various character synopses – salvaged from hard drives of other computers long gone. For nine years, I failed to write that book. Some years, I wasn’t even actively trying to write, but the sense of failure stayed with me. And then, it happened. Last year, I did it – I wrote it. It took about 8 months, and it was painful, yes, but suddenly not an insurmountable challenge. I did it while being the busiest I’ve ever been. So, what changed? Only one thing.

I committed to doing it … and committed to not thinking about failing.

I didn’t give myself any “outs”. You know what I’m talking about. “I’m writing this for me, so it doesn’t matter if nobody reads it.” (Let me pause again here. If you’re a writer who writes solely for yourself, that’s awesome. I’m not denying that as a legitimate goal. I’m just not that kind of writer. I write because, fundamentally, I want people to read my words. If I wrote purely for my own amusement, I would probably never write. Because I can talk to myself any time I please.) The nature of “outs” is different – for everybody, for every activity. My husband, who is rocking his new diet & fitness regime, was talking about how it would be okay if he fell off the wagon for a day, here and there. For me, writing my book, it had always been: “even if I don’t finish, it’s okay.” And, really, the implicit message behind all of our “outs” is the same: it’s okay when I fail. The thing is, whether we realize it or not, our minds and hearts listen to the words coming out of our mouths. We don’t intend to anticipate failure. We don’t want to fail. But when s**t gets hard, our brains and our hearts remember the message we’ve been sending all along. It’s okay to fail.

This is not a post about tough love. Failure happens. Sometimes we have a hand in it, sometimes we don’t. I don’t want anyone to beat themselves up over it. It is okay if you fail. Sometimes, it’s the best thing that can happen, because you learn an invaluable lesson. Sometimes, it just plain sucks, and the only thing to do is move on. But if you want to succeed, don’t commit to a goal with the idea of failure firmly planted in your heart and mind. It might seem like a safety net but, trust me, that’s a lie. Strive, certain of success. Striving, certain of failure, is like trying to run a race with your shoelaces tied together. Your odds of getting to the finish line are better if you don’t do that.

[Let me pause – again, yikes – for just a teensy bit of tough love. Visualizing success, without doing any actual (usually hard) work, is nothing more than daydreaming, no matter what The Secret told your mom. Visualizing success, without doing the work, is like dreaming about winning the lottery without ever buying a ticket. The best advice I’ve read recently came from Mindy Kaling’s Why Not Me: “Work hard, know your shit, show your shit, and then feel entitled.” Feel entitled to success, and don’t tie your shoelaces together.]

“But,” you say, “I’m just being realistic. Success is hard, and assuming I’ll achieve it without any setbacks is setting up an impossible standard.” You have a point. And … I have a counterpoint. See, it’s a matter of perspective. Setbacks are almost inevitable, yes, but your attitude can make a huge difference in whether they turn out to be mere bumps in the road, or the end of the road. Let’s go back to my book example. If my attitude, starting out, is “it’s okay if I don’t finish”, guess what will happen the first time I run into writer’s block? (This usually happens every 10 pages or so.) I will do what I have done numerous times in the past; I’ll give up. The failure would seem inevitable – like it had been meant to be, all along. But if my perspective is “I will finish this book, and it’s going to be a good one, by golly!” then you know what happens? I get the same writer’s block, just as often. And I still think about quitting. Just as often. But I don’t – because I have somewhere to go, and this is just something that’s standing in my way. It’s not fate; it’s just an inconvenience. A bridge guarded by a troll demanding a toll of success before I can move forward.

Sorry, I may have gone a little overboard with the metaphors.

Back to the point at hand. It’s okay to recognize that, 99% of the time, success is hard. It’s especially good to remember that when you’re in the middle of dealing with one of its hardships. Experiencing hardship is not a sign of failure. It is not failure. Failure is how you react to the hardship. It’s one thing to say, “Adina, you will probably experience a lot of writer’s block, and that’s okay.” I mean, it’s not the most useful mantra to adopt when trying to write a book, but it’s inoffensive enough. It’s completely different from saying, “it’s okay if I don’t finish this book.” The truth is that most of us don’t anticipate hardship; we anticipate failure. My husband didn’t say, “it’s okay if I’m tempted to eat some chips & salsa now and then.” He said, “it’s okay if I fall off the wagon.” I’m telling you what I told him: don’t do that. You owe it to yourself to not do that. Assess your success or failure after you’ve reached the finish line, not before you’ve left the starting blocks.

For one thing, you may be surprised by what “success” and “failure” mean to you once the finish line is behind you. My book has sold a whopping, like, 20 copies. Had I told myself, 9 months ago, “it’s okay if my book only sells 20 copies” … well, there would be no book for me to talk about now. Whenever my conviction wavered during those long months of writing – and it did! Oh boy, did it ever – I was certain that I would feel like a failure if the book didn’t sell a lot of copies. So, by necessity, I told myself that it would. And you know what? I don’t feel like a failure now. Sure, I’m disappointed (a little or a lot, depending on the day), but that’s different. I’m proud of the book I wrote. I’m happy it has the chance to be read. And I’m freaking excited about writing the next one. Which will sell a million copies, naturally.

Changing your perspective is a funny thing. It might start in one area of your life, but it has a tendency to spread. All my life, I’ve been the kind of person who was overly cautious – realistic, I liked to say. Aim high-ish, but keep expectations in check. And, above all, don’t expect success – that’s presumptuous. I did okay for myself with that mindset. Yet, throughout most of my adult life, I felt haunted by the spectre of failure. I thought it was the fear of failure that was holding me back, but it was actually the opposite. I had grown used to keeping failure close at hand, like an illusory safety net. When I started to focus not on what I might not be able to do, but on what I wanted to do, I suddenly felt freer and, oddly, more courageous – in all areas of my life. Reaching for the moon is either gonna get you a chunk of lunar rock in your back pocket, or make you realize that, like, climbing Mount Kilimanjaro is awesome. Or that you’re really good at astrophysics. Either way, you will have done something difficult and scary and, most likely, pretty amazing.

Twenty Questions

I’m still doing questionnaires, you guys. They’re … kinda addictive. I’m looking for but haven’t yet found a style-related one (per suggestion from a BCRL reader), but in the meantime I went through Marie Claire’s Twenty Questions.

[In the interests of disclosure, my Marie Claire ban is still in effect, all these years later. I found the questionnaire online which … is kinda, maybe, not cheating? In any case, I’ve actually been considering picking up the magazine again, and seeing if it’s any better these days. I actually don’t read any “ladies mags” anymore and sorta miss them. Any good ones you would recommend? Halp!]

Before we go any further, however, requisite apology to questionnaire non-fans – this week, courtesy of Mr. Snake Hips himself:

Crimson Peak, baby, yeah ... errm, sorry, what?
Crimson Peak, baby, yeah … errm, sorry, what?

(P.S. I CANNOT wait to see Crimson Peak!!)

What brings you the greatest joy?
My kids, and finding the perfect turn of phrase.

What is the best advice you’ve ever been given?
I find that good advice changes with the seasons. Of your life, not the calendar (ahem). At this point in mine, the advice that resonates the most is this: you will miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. Hokey? You betcha. But it reminds me not to be so damned scared of failure.

What charities do you support?
Alberta Cancer Foundation, Edmonton Food Bank, SPCA

What app do you most often use?
Probably Layout or PicStitch, for my Instagram OOTDs.

What do you wish someone would invent?
A teleportation device. Beam me up, Scotty!

What is your fantasy itinerary?
The dozen steps from the front row at the Dolby Theatre in LA to the stage where I’m accepting my Oscar for best screenplay.

Just kidding. The more literal answer: London –> Paris –> Loire Valley –> Provence –> Cote d’Azure –> Tuscany. Or the full length of the Orient Express, if I could go back and travel in the 1920s.

What book had a profound effect on your life?
The last one was probably The Unbearable Lightness of Being back in my late teens/early 20s. I’m overdue for another one.

Who is on the guest list for your ideal dinner party?
I’ll tell you who is NOT on the list: Jesus. That would be freaking nerve wracking. What the hell would I serve for dinner? How would I stop myself from swearing? Too much stress, you guys.

Ok, on a (somewhat) more serious note: Bill Murray, Helen Mirren, Tina Fey, George R. R. Martin, and Brandon Flowers. Maybe not all at the same time, though.

What makes you laugh?
My husband’s dad jokes. But, in my defence, I’m pretty sure it was part of the original contract, somewhere after the “in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer” bit.

What makes you cry?
SPCA commercials. I have now developed a reflex whereby I start tearing up as soon as I hear any snipped of Sarah McLachlin music.

What irrational fear do you have?
Fear of spiders probably doesn’t count because irrational it is very much not. Probably the fear that everyone secretly hates me but is too polite to tell me to my face. Wait, is that an irrational fear? Don’t tell me.

What is your beauty secret?
Mascara and bright lipstick. It’s not so much a secret, as the key to not looking like Casper’s paler cousin.

What do you hope your friends say behind your back?
I hope she’ll tell us more about this book she’s writing.

What advice would you give to someone with a broken heart?
Whatever you do, don’t listen to Mariah Carey’s “I Can’t Live (If Living is Without You)”. Been there, done that, and I can tell you that it will take on average five extra pints of Ben & Jerry’s to reach the “acceptance” stage. Fact.

What song instantly puts you in a good mood?
“Let Your Hair Down” by Magic. It reminds me of being on the beach in Mexico with my family. The parts that didn’t involve screaming toddler tantrums.

How did you make your first dollar?
If we’re counting foreign currency, then by patting family members on the back and calling it a “spa massage”. But my first actual dollar I made by shelving books at the campus library.

What do you wish you could stop doing?
Putting my foot in my mouth. Or, at the very least, remembering in excruciating detail, after the fact, all of the instances in which I put my foot in my mouth during any random conversation.

How do you define success?
Working because you love what you do, not because you have to.

What should every woman try at least once in her life?
Thinking like a boss.

How would you like to be remembered?
I’m totally stealing Amy Poehler’s answer: Often, fondly and loudly.

Girl Time Adventures

Top, shorts & cardigan, Winners; sunglasses; Rayban; shoes, Josef Seibel
Top, shorts & cardigan, Winners; sunglasses; Rayban; shoes, Josef Seibel

Every year for my birthday, I like to treat myself to something. (I know. Just for your birthday, Adina? Well, something extra special, that is.) This year, I decided to make it an experience rather than a material item since, God knows, I have enough things in my life. I chose to give myself the “present” of a day full of music with two of my good friends. Yep, I went to Sonic Boom. And it was amazeballs.

Obviously, I wore clothes doing it, but that’s not really important. It was cold and wet most of the day (the sun came out for approximately 2 minutes while I took the outfit photo, and then called it a day – sayonara, sun), so all that anybody saw were my khaki field jacket and ginormous scarf. But, boy, did we have a lot of fun! See, it started like this …

the three amigos
the three amigos

… and went up and up and up from there. Sonic Boom was held at Borden Park this year, and since it was my first time, I can’t compare it to previous years; however, I liked the venue a lot, and had the weather been nicer, it would have had a great festival-type atmosphere. As it was, we still managed to have a TON of fun … notwithstanding that we were the oldest people in the mosh pit by well over a decade. Why were we in the mosh pit at all, you ask? Well …

*heart eyes*
*heart eyes*
but, seriously, have you bought The Desired Effect yet??
but, seriously, have you bought The Desired Effect yet??
one last one ... I guess
what, this is not a BFlow Tumblr? Oh darn

Yes, dear readers, I died and went to heaven. This was my first opportunity to see Brandon Flowers in concert (solo or otherwise) and it blew away my expectations. I knew he would sound amazing live (because, per extensive YouTube, ahem, research, he always does) but I was not prepared for the stage presence and sheer entertainment value. Also, his hair really does look amazing even in real life. That’s some serious magic right there.

Anyway, there were other bands playing (including Hozier, who was also very good) but who are we kidding? I’m totally biased and I don’t care – BFlow forevah!

The next day, my girlfriends and I hit up Chinatown for some delicious dim sum, and I selfied in the lobby because it’s how I roll. My pals only rolled their eyes a little bit, and that’s why I love them. Just kidding. I love them because their middle name is Awesome (pronounced Oh-sow-mi because what else do you do at 2 o’clock in the morning after a great concert and a late night Denny’s run except come up with awesome pseudonyms … pun intended).

morning after dim sum - yum
morning after dim sum – yum

Anyway, after brunch, it was time to go back home to the munchkins and trade parental duties with my husband, who got to experience his own day of Sonic Boom fun (I hear Tenacious D killed it). Birthday fun for all!

it started out promising, rainbow and all, and ended up cold & wet :(
it started out promising, rainbow and all, and ended up cold & wet 🙁