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Monday Morning Memo

Glorious Failure

June 11, 2012

| Download
https://podcasts.captivate.fm/media/3d23f816-c8d6-4123-8994-34078256777f/MMM120611-GloriousFailure.mp3


A Message at Graduation Time 

The person who achieves spectacular failure
has at least attempted something bold.
Failure is a temporary condition.
Success is likewise temporary.
Life, itself, is temporary.
So quit hesitating.
Do something.
 

Mediocrity comes from having perfectly implemented tried and true, traditional wisdom.

The outcome is the only thing that separates confidence from hubris. If your bold idea succeeds, you were a confident visionary. If your bold idea fails, the walking dead will accuse you of being full of yourself. “It was hubris,” they will say.

Ignore the zombies. Life is risk. Risk is life. The only death is mediocrity. The only stupidity is fear. Fling yourself into something uncertain. The view from the edge is spectacular. What the hell, go ahead and put all your eggs in one basket. If you lose those eggs, you can find some more. The world is covered with eggs.

Zombies invented the lie that curiosity killed the cat. But it wasn’t curiousity that did her in. It was boredom.

Boredom killed the cat.

Security, boredom and a bloodless life are all the zombies have to offer. But if you follow your Beagle of Intuition into the Forest of Uncertainty, you’ll ask directions of angels and they’ll answer you by opening a door you never knew was there. You’ll kiss the hand of Serendipity as you gaze upwards into her face. And she will smile. 

Zombies tell many lies.
Their most famous lies are:

1. A college degree is the key to getting a good job.
2. If you give your money to financial experts they will grow it into a fortune. (Strangely, this second lie is partly true. But often, the only fortune those experts will grow your money into is their own.)

Your Beagle of Intuition
knows different truths:

1. Opportunity comes to those who have asked directions of angels.
2. Money flows to those who have seen the smile of Serendipity.
 

The world is covered with eggs.

And there is a miracle inside every one of them.

Roy H. Williams

PS – We’re only a few months away from entering the second half of the upswing of our current “We” cycle in this amazing 3,000-year Pendulum of Western Civilization. Compliance and conformity are not only admired in the second half of a “We,” but expected. (Have you noticed the current trend toward “best practices”? They’re being trumpeted everywhere.) Compliance and conformity are definitely on the rise. Few people experiment anymore. Everyone seems to be waiting for someone else to tell them what to do.

Today’s MMMemo is just my tiny, little way of reminding you that the forever tug-of-war between “Me” and “We” is essentially a choice between two good things. And we always take a good thing too far in the second half of an upswing. If we were wise, we would try to hang on to the good parts of “Me” as we rid ourselves of its excesses. Self-reliance, individuality and freedom of expression are good things; they’re just currently out of fashion. Sigh. – RHW

My longtime friend Dean Rotbart has agreed to host a weekly
radio show featuring you, the friends and alumni of Wizard Academy.
More details in next week’s MMMemo.

 

A NOTE FROM INDY.
My man Ted was an expert on zombies:

“The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotion, spends himself in a worthy cause; who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid [zombies] who have never tasted victory or defeat.”

– Theodore Roosevelt
Teddy was President at the “Me” zenith of 1903.
The President at the next zenith of “Me” (1983) was Ronald Reagan.

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Random Quote:

“She was neither vicious nor stubborn, she was very fast on the track, and she responded intelligently to training… Had she made her debut on Park Avenue in the middle thirties instead of on the race-course at Nairobi in the middle twenties, she would have been counted as one of those intellectually irresponsible individuals always referred to as being ‘delightfully mad.’ Her madness, of course, consisted simply of a penchant for doing things that, in the opinions of her stable mates, weren’t being done. No well-brought-up filly, for instance, while being exercised before the critical watchfulness of her owner, her trainer, and a half-dozen members of the Jockey Club, would come to an abrupt halt beside a mud-hole left by last month’s rains, buckle at the knees, and before anything could be done about it, roll over in the muck like a Berkshire hog. But Balmy did, as often as there was a mudhole in her path and a trusting rider on her back, though what pleasure she got out of it none of us ever knew. She was a little like the eccentric genius who, after being asked by his host why he had rubbed the broccoli in his hair at dinner, apologized with a bow from the waist and said he had thought it was spinach.”

- Beryl Markham, West With the Night, p. 36

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