Icarus

Icarus has a sad impractical ending. Almost silly to an extent, especially if you are practical by nature. But there is this one thing about Icarus that has always attracted me.

Everyone focuses on the fall. I however feel that the fall misses the point. What always stands out for me is this simple fact:

Icarus touched the fucking sun.

For one brief, blazing moment, he achieved the impossible. He dared more in his failure than most achieve in a lifetime of cautious fluttering.

Perhaps a bit illogical? Maybe.

Perspectives are complex scenarios and cannot really be governed by right or wrong judgement calls. However, if we peel away the layers of the onion, the core idea nestled deep within the fable, is probably about failure and our relationship with it.

Is it better to not try so that we don't fail? Or is it better to try and fail so that we grow? The answer probably depends on the opportunity cost which again is highly subjective depending on two parameters.

The opportunity and the cost.

So are we here to be a butterfly, delicately sipping success from manicured flowers or are we here to be the hurricane that uproots forests and the earthquake that reshapes continents. Mind you, there is nothing wrong in sipping honey from manicured flowers. It's easy, relaxed, low stress and everyone is perfectly within their rights to want some.

I know I would love some.

But honey only presents itself when we have taken care of the basics and then some. For those who are still struggling with the basics, manicured flowers are just beyond access most of the time.

So then what do we do?

Now there are certain situations in life where we absolutely go all in even if we fail, because we don't have any other option and because we want it so badly that the embarrassment of failure is totally worth it.

An example of this would be all of us learning to walk when we are toddlers. However much we waddle and fall in front of the world, we just don't stop. Another example would be that of a kiss. Remember that awkward, messy, terrifying—and absolutely terrible yet essential first kiss?

We don't read how-to guides on kissing. We risk embarrassment, rejection, and possible headbutts. That's how we learn. And we do so because we absolutely want to experience that feeling. What we can embrace, is the notion that every masterpiece that has ever been built has been on a graveyard of aborted attempts. Every breakthrough has been the bastardised creation of a thousand failures.

The greatest minds in history weren't great because they succeeded. They became great because they had the audacity to fail on a scale so magnificent, that it changed the world.

We're however mostly addicted to bubble wrap existences, swaddled in "participation trophies" and "learning environments." This is very comforting if the decision is to exist for a while on cruise control. But life doesn't grade on a curve and the universe, the government , the tax man and the quarterly organisational reorg don't generally give a damn about our comfort zones.

So the question is should we ? And if so for how long?

I feel, we really need to reframe our relationship with failure. It is not some bogeyman lurking in the shadows of our endeavours, but mostly our doppelganger in the form of an insensitive teacher.

Can we ever discover a new flavour if we don't risk ruining a dish? Can we ever win a live audience without risking a discordant note? Can we ever write something of value, until we have risked our words to be rejected by eyes that see it?

If the consequence is minimal is the subsequent grand?

So, what if we went out courting a bit of failure but within safe limits? Just to keep the habit alive?

Flying to the sun would be stupid, but speaking live to the mirror for those who are scared of public speaking, writing an anonymous blog to those who are afraid of writing, and dancing to our own selves for those who are afraid of dancing, would be great exercises to pursue within limits for example. Because at that moment, and with that choice, failure stops becoming the ignominy of the end.

It transforms into becoming the first step. It evolves into our twisted muse, the other side of our will, our every essence. We simply thereby need to just replace one word in our cultural discourse ;

Failure is not the opposite of success. It's the prerequisite

About me

I write ‘cos words are fun. More about me here. Follow @hackrlife on X or subscribe to my blog

Recommended reading

The Dangers of Overreaching – Farnam Street

The Fear of Success – Mark Manson

Why Smart People Make Big Mistakes – Harvard Business Review

The Role of Failure in Success – James Clear

The Art of Knowing When to Quit – Harvard Business Review