It has now been nine days since I've posted. I made it 68 days in a 90 day challenge and then came the week where AP and I decided we would try to finish and get moved. I went from 10hour days to 12 and 15 hour days. Tasks and finish work seem to multiply in the night while we sleep.
Shower curtain rods installed, pictures hung, furniture assembled, organization for a new space, cleaning purging, moving.
And in the middle of all of it, I failed. I failed the 90 day challenge, wherein I post uninterrupted.
I tried to tell myself Sometimes you have to choose. Sometimes you can't do it all. Sometimes you have to know when sleep is more important. Sometimes you have to acknowledge when you have nothing left to give.
But it's really all excuses. A youtube vlogger I watch, Casey Neistat, he vlogs every single day. Amidst running a business and raising a kid with his wife and traveling all over the world, he captures and edits and publishes a vlog every single day. He doesn't miss unless he plans to.
It can be done, I just failed at it.
The question becomes; What does it mean, to fail?
For me, in the past, a failure meant closing the book. It was an end. It signaled an inability that I took for a sign that I shouldn't even try.
But I guess what I'm learning is that success is built on what we do with failure, whether we close the book, or write an epilogue. Whether we stay down or get back up and try again.
Well anyway, I owe my challenge 21 days, so today I'm at a desk where there's internets, writing. I find that in the last nine days of not writing, I've been full of more ideas than I've had in weeks. And I find myself excited to continue, not for the sake of a challenge but for the sake of the work itself. I've already failed at the challenge and yet, here I am, my heart full to continue and to succeed not at the challenge, but at the point, which is to be a writer and to develop consistency.
Failure only defines the effort if it's the note you end on.