Griffin Kelton

Yesterday, I said to several people this new epiphany I had. I never thought about it before. “It’s important to learn to accept failure. Not only to accept it, but also to be at peace with it.” I said this without thinking of all the implications and the deep meaning behind it. So this is me, trying to explain what I mean.

There’s two ways to look at this. On one hand, you can be OK with failure because you just don’t care. Grant it, there are times in life when this completely appropriate—e.g., you fail to hard boil the perfect egg (if this did happen and ruin your day, you should seek professional consult).

But, let’s say that you feel like you’re on your way to hit rock bottom or might even find yourself there. How do you cope with that? I think it is fair to say that the answer is different for everyone, but this is how I deal with it. You need to realize a couple of things: you can only control what you can control, it is OK to mad/angry/upset AT someone, and it’s OK to grieve. After trying you’re best, fixing what you can, and striving for success, there is NEVER a reason to feel like a failure. There’s the seeming paradox. When you fail, it’s not quite a failure. By definition, yes it is, but at that point, there needs to be a change in personal perspective.

Failure: lack of success.

In light of that, how does one change that perspective? It requires self-respect, confidence, and the will power to view things in a healthy way: when you can’t live up to unrealistic expectations that are simply humanly impossible, wrong, or don’t make any sense that’s not your fault. Some people are on this world to test us. Not in the way of providing challenging tasks for us. They are a challenge in themselves because we have to be incredibly patient in order to cope/be with them.

I realize this is all very amorphous partly because I am in class and should be paying attention so my thoughts are unclear, partly because it’s a hard idea to conceptualize and put to paper. I suppose if I had to sum it up: remember that you can’t be perfect and that you can’t do everything and be everything to everyone; sometimes, we have to sit back and say, “I’ve done what I can and que sera, sera. I can’t control it, no matter how much I want to, I can’t so I won’t.” It’s not easy. It’s very, very hard. But I think it’s a lesson we all need to learn.

Oh, and one last thing, there’s a reason God put family and friends in your life. You can always turn to someone and vent your frustration with them. That always helps me.

Time is such a peculiar animal. Days seem to always be too long and too short all at the same time. Quite frankly it sucks. There’s two contradictory principles colliding here: the feeling of lethargy that accompanies pure exhaustion after a long day and the overwhelming feeling of stress when there’s too much to handle. In my typical fashion, I’m trying to diagnose my symptoms. I hope that if I can reach of consensus I can apply some remedy and rid this temporal ailment.

About a month ago, I came to the conclusion that my obsessive personality needed some sort of new fixation in order to occupy my mind, eliminating my boredom as much as possible. Over the summer, in order to take on as much as I could, I cleared my plate of everything I could. Once my summer was over, a lot of what required me to clear my plate was a non-issue. I was left with an empty docket and only school to fill it with. That wasn’t going to work.

In trying to discover a new thing to throw my self fully into, I stumbled into various things that were temporarily amusing, but nothing has truly kept my attention to this point. So here I am. Two and half months into my last semester of college befuddled by time and filled with frustration. I really can’t handle too much of either right now.

It’s times like this when you pull out a mask and fake it till you make it.

I just had my last Fall break ever. It’s strange to think that as of December, all those small holiday breaks we as students enjoy will be out the window for me. In addition to that, I’ll be losing sleeping in until right before that 11am class, let alone choosing for my days to start that late. Goodbye to pointless all nighters. I could go on. So why am I so excited go be a graduate? (If I had been at a different school, I might feel differently but that’s another story for another time.)

I suppose at first glance adulthood seems scary. Look a little deeper though. I could try to describe all the things I look forward to, but I think the most effective way to convey what I’m trying to say is with a phrase. I’m trying to encapsulate adulthood in one phrase so bear with me here: having total control over your life and GETTING to live with all the consequences of your choices.

I suppose that appears odd, but it sounds exciting to me. A new journey. Switching do a different path. Bring it life!

One of these days, I know things are going to work out. The impossible will become possible. The unattainable will become attainable. And I’ll be crazy enough to run after both. Until that day, I’m living my life knowing that current circumstances may seem inopportune, less ideal, and sometimes miserable, but they are all leading to the day when everything works. A place where love abounds and worries are few and far between. That’s the end of the path I’m on. That’s what keeps me going. Keeps me sane.

It’s a ghastly sight to see people so disinterested in personal well being. Sure, your motives are seemingly altruistic. Yet, altruism doesn’t really exist does it? When you boil man down to the his true nature, you find that the innermost reality of humanity is COMPLETELY self-interested. We’re fooling ourselves if we think otherwise. Perhaps we’d all be better off if we were honest with each other and, more importantly, ourselves. If man is truly capable of selfless action without divine intervention, it would behoove us to at least care for ourselves so we can maximally contribute. Martyrdom is being so consumed with the ideology of dogma that you are completely ineffective. All talk, no game. It’s not heroic. It makes you a fool.