Bruises to the spirit come in all sizes. I've never experienced the sudden loss of a loved one, or a job, or my health. I'm no expert in true hardship; I'm an utter and absolute novice. The prescriptions I write won't heal many, but if it might help one, then why not?
In August I set a goal of getting a certain part in a musical. Auditions were in January. For five months I went all in. I found several versions of the musical online. From these I painstakingly transcribed the entire script into a Word document. I made a playlist of all the songs that the character would sing; played them daily in the shower and sang them on the treadmill; choreographed dances. Taught myself an Austrian accent by downloading audio files, practiced an English accent and Spanish as well. Developed stage blocking and gestures and memorized all the lines. Not only for the role I wanted, but also for the next-largest role as well as a backup. As the audition approached, I stayed up late into multiple nights performing the entire show for both roles, with a strategy of taxing my energy and voice more strenuously than the show would require so as to be over prepared. I altered my sleeping, drinking and eating schedule so that I'd be physically peaking at the evening audition. Hired an accompanist, developed choreography for my audition song, rehearsed incessantly. I dressed flexibly so that I could look the part of the lead or the second lead, depending on what I was called up to read. I was competing against only two others, at least one of whom was actually gunning for a different role.
I didn't get either part.
I wasn't good enough.
I knew the risks going in. Investing hundreds of hours with the chance of failure is something you can prepare for intellectually, whether it's theater or relationships or business or charity. Still, in the moment, there may be no escaping the surge of physical adrenaline and emotional despair that biologically fires off when it happens. I didn't sleep well that night, but I did begin to heal. Here's how.
1. I celebrated my blessings. I was offered an alternate role which still uses my abilities well and provides a great opportunity to serve the patrons if I continue to work hard; the hours of preparation will serve me well in the role, and probably helped me get the role in the first place. I get to spend time with familiar friends and make new ones. I congratulated several friends on their success.
2. I briefly vented my disappointment privately to a few family, but denied anger at the door. Things happen according to God's plan. I cannot get mad at God, I am simply too blessed. There is a reason, a good reason, for this unexpected path that I will eventually find, starting with a full night of sleep.
3. I distracted my mind. Replay of failure on an endless mental loop is a soul-sucker especially at night, and the natural reaction in the absence of an explanation. In this case, I did some reading and watched some Netflix. I didn't sleep until 2am, which would have been longer had I spent that time re-shocking the adrenaline with useless memories. Instead, I cued up a couple feel-good, obstacle-overcoming, tear-jerker flicks that washed clean away any potential pity parties out of my system.
4. I allowed my body time to recover. Fortunately I didn't have any morning appointments. I stayed in bed until 11am.
5. I moved on to the next success. Small ones like a made bed, shower and shave. Medium ones like a run to the grocery store. Big ones like a workout and signing a maintenance contract for our condominium association.
6. I used failure as a learning tool. I visited with the director for feedback about my audition and got the right mix of suggestions and kudos to bring healthy closure to the uncertainty. I came away feeling like I know my limitations, a big help in knowing how to better invest my time in the future.
Through decades of ambition, setback and comeback I've come to believe this: That the only way to truly achieve a perfect winning record is to score it according to whether I gave it perfect effort. In this case, I did. Along the way we will at times feel deep sense of loss, but this is not truly defeat unless we let it be so. We win when, no matter how heavy, we persist to hold our heart high, keep our eyes forward, and power ourselves with the boundless energy of a smile.
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