Thinking today about the five stages of grief. It applies to just about every time of separation/change in our lives.
Yesterday, I handed in my resignation, and couldn’t help but feel like a complete and total failure. I spent last week in the depression phase, and have moved on to acceptance.
I try to learn, try to move forward, but there is only so much you can do when the person who is supposed to guide and direct you shuts the door and refuses to speak with you. At that point, they have moved on and it is in the best interests of everyone if you do too.
And there are so many people who will point and remind me of past failures as indicators of future failures. And they would be right, except for one thing: every one of those failures is evidence that I have tried. And I have picked up and learned from each of them.
I won’t discuss the particular lessons in this instance. Not today; it’s too fresh, and there is too much a likelihood that I will say something in a way that could cause some people to feel slighted, and it is not my aim to slight anyone. The truth is, the reason for this failure was mine and mine alone. I just don’t want to drag good people down with me.
Which brings me to my next point: the CD release. As I prepare for yet another transition in an all too itinerant life, I don’t think I can overstate how proud I am to have this finished. Nor the extreme gratitude I have for those who helped this come to pass. If you have never put out a CD, it’s hard to envision just how large the team is that brings that to fruition. And mine would not have come to fruition without the background help of a good number of people. I got by, truly, with a lot of help from my friends.
So as I tune up and saddle up, I can feel confident that the biggest hurdle has already been cleared. And remind myself that as uncertain as my future is, failure is not new territory. And that the small percentage of success in my life only indicates that I was, at least, daring enough to try.