Me and my big mouth. I see what I’ve done now. Yesterday, I opined — pontificated? — about how fascinated I was by failure and how important it is to handle it well, how it shows character, etc., etc. Well, first thing today, I get rejected on an essay I thought was quite good by what I thought was the perfect place to send it. Holy shit. What was I doing — begging for failure? Courting it? (Come on, hit me. I can take it.)
What strikes me as a funny benefit of writing a blog is that it can help keep you honest. I mean, I could go back and purge that posting and pretend it never happened. (Who me? No, I hate failure. Haven’t I made that clear? I’m very thin-skinned and sensitive. You must have me confused with someone who has a tough hide.)
In fact, I just talked to my husband and “forgot” to mention I’d started the day with a big rejection. Who wants to own up to being a loser before 10 in the morning? I can wait.
But no. I’ve got to kick the self-pity and get on with it. In fact, I have to take my own damned advice — and bounce back. That’s the trouble. It is good advice. I know that. It’s just that it’s so damned much easier to yammer about it than do it.
In the meantime, I’ll be careful what I write about, not wanting to court an even more massive riptide of failure. (Yes, I’m sure that will work. I’m sure the universe will respond appropriately to the subject matter of my blog.)
Hell, maybe my next post should be about being kinder to yourself. Now, there‘s an idea.
P.S. I should add that I’m happy that Ellen’s kind of online now. You probably couldn’t find two greater technological morons than the two of us. It’s a miracle we’ve gotten this far — and testimony to how easy it’s gotten.
(Copyright 2007 by Ruth Pennebaker)