Go Get A No!

‘GO GET A NO!’

 I can’t remember where I stumbled across this genius statement amidst my insight binging during the pandemic but I’ve just been reading Luke Rhinehart’s Dice Man (which is fucking excellent, by the way!) and came across a chapter that explores precisely this…

 He says, ‘From child to human we cage ourselves in patterns to avoid facing new problems and possible failure; after a while we become bored because there are no new problems.  Such is life under the fear of failure.’ 

 Helpfully, he provides us with the solution… ‘Fail!  Lose!  Be bad!  Play, risk, dare.’

 Hence, go get a no.

 I. LOVE. THIS. 

 Instant surges of excitement, freedom, thrill… and, above all, RELIEF.

 Permission to fuck up please.  (And mostly, I’m begging myself.  Permission please, Lara!) 

 Things can sometimes get a bit too tidy in my world.  And I’m not talking about my knickers folded in the top drawer.  Some healthy metaphorical mess from time to time keeps my life spicy.  Mess experienced with people, places and things – the unexpected, the rebellious, the gritty, the silly.  It could be anything slightly off beat really… recently, my unpackaged vibrator fell out of my sleeve as I strutted along City Road in Angel.  I was cheekily unphased as people clocked my hot pink sculpted phallus ‘thwack!’ on the concrete.  An amusing little ‘whoops’ moment. 

Last night I told myself off (again) for living a good chunk of the month in my overdraft which, ‘…is not responsible for a 34 year old, Lara!’  Note to self – ‘Get better.’  Notably, at money management.  Moments later, I’m flirting with my three upcoming city trips and spend a couple of hundred online scouting fabulous and skimpy summer clothes. 

Naaaat smart.  Oh but I grinned and felt delightfully naughty, knowing that I’ll always find a way. 

Which I do.  That I know for sure.

And on surety, my bed will always be made in the morning (after necessary sheet airing), I will forever fold my clothes, unpack first and you can count I’ll be found eating an elevenses chewy bar most/every day. 

Some things are simply the fabric of the Soul and not to be messed with.

It all ties in with perfectionism, of course.  That glamorised version of Imposter Syndrome (which I’ve discussed in an earlier piece) but for now I really want to stick with the opposite… imperfection, flaws and even better – FAILURE.

Using my favourite on trend (and mildly repulsive) phrase of the time… let’s ‘lean into’ failure...

 I think I had such an immediately positive reaction when I read Rhinehart’s passage because I am at a stage in my life where there seems to be an inevitable track… And I find myself very much not on it. 

Not being on said track more kindly warrants failure, I think.  And I’m grateful to it. 

M. Scott Peck writes in his timeless book The Road Less Travelled, ‘The only real security in life lies in relishing life’s insecurity…leaps into independence and self determination are enormously painful at any age and require supreme courage.’  *absorbs*

Description - mid 30s, single woman, freelancer, renter who doesn’t understand bitcoin/shares/housing market or how to use power point.  In fact, Microsoft word is a stretch.  Ideally for me, it would be a simpler time where all my money is kept under the bed in a cute velvet pouch.  And maybe a Nokia 5210.

I sometimes find myself asking, am I a responsibility phobe?  Not sure, is the honest answer… what I do know is that the perceived adult milestones of, say, marriage, children, house, car, sensible investment in 2/3 ‘things’ (good) is not where I am nor where I put my energy.  So it makes sense that I’m not ticking the generational bracket that surrounds me. The bracket that is so often thought of as a successful life benchmark ie. not failure.

And that’s okay and great.  Whatever we want in life, right! ‘You do you’ (another trend phrase I enjoy). 

And here on a quiet Sunday afternoon - which can be a bit hit and miss sans tribe - I’m precisely where I need to be; typing these words, sipping on a ginger beer in Brockwell Park, merrily pondering life.  It’s all flowing nicely. 

Some Sundays can be cruel though… lonely and tormenting - ‘You’re living the life of a teenager’ being a current headline loop as I drift around some lovely food market with a tiny coffee, feeling increasingly inadequate as every new young family, relationship and cool friendship group that I am not involved in have all decided to flock to this particular Sunday spot where I am now in the throes of an existential crumble.  All under the casual guise of a chic strolling in her sunglasses and dungarees with maybe a glint in the eye of good ol’ fashioned fomo.

 The truth is, I’m happy on quirkier pursuits.  The alternative route.  Following my nose and not the google maps version of my life.  I can stifle myself if I get too caught up in the suggested way.  Rapid antidote is my best friend, an ice cream and Madonna’s Immaculate Collection – ideally altogether.  Seems to always bring me back to my rhythm.

 Socrates said, ‘If you want to be wrong then follow the masses’.  Maybe?  Sometimes?  Again, not sure but fancied shoving it in.

This reminds me of my stubborn days as an 11 year old refusing to watch Titanic because everyone else did and loved it.  ‘Nope!  I won’t do it!  You can’t make me!’  Perhaps I was channelling Socrates…

Firstly, what an arsehole I sound.  Secondly, when I eventually gave in I OBVIOUSLY LOVED it.  And continue to watch it annually. 

With that, you’ll probably find me in five years with updated description - Mother of 3 living in Farnham with a passion for gardening and impressive home-grown tomatoes, spuds and whatever else people lovingly plant.  And that would be joyous! 

All so long as one is on their authentic path, free from odious comparison and preferably a life drenched in colour! 

Request ~ Soul illumination as much as possible.  Essentially, feeling radiant and peacefully content.  Verging on smug about it. 

Then it can’t ever be wrong.

Leaning into ‘go get a no’ complements my current path nicely.  Yes, probably because it goes against the (dated) patriarchal/societal norm which is rightfully being challenged and rejected more and more but that’s not my point… it’s more personal. 

I am instantly liberated when I sniff out something else.  Or lift out the exquisite flaw.  It feels like there’s room.  A cheeky surprise.  It’s buzzy energy.

In Japanese ancient tradition they celebrate the imperfections in artwork (usually pottery) by lacing an unintentional crack with gold paint.  To ENHANCE THE FLAW.

It is a cherished cultural philosophy called Kintsugi.  Isn’t that great!  And beautiful.

So, let’s go fail a bit more.  For it could end up a work of art.

Let’s dare to make mistakes.  There we’re in a fertile creative space… pushing boundaries and putting effort in.  It might be different, it might be taboo, it might be a bit off kilter, it might be entirely new ground waiting for you to give it a go and fail tremendously.  But in that, there’s bravery.  Spirit.  Guts.  All the good alive stuff!  Keeping us on our toes.  Demanding growth and encouraging us to FLOURISH as a result.

Tara Mohr (wondrous coach & author) refers to this as ‘Playing Big’.  Fear and failure will inevitably arise when we’re elevating, gearing up and, as Mohr says, ‘leaping’. 

Okay, I need to re-read this when I start getting safe and tidy again. 

Reminding myself that a bit of gold mess is actually what makes the masterpiece.

PS. Go listen to Elizabeth Day’s How To Fail (an audio essential) and hear hundreds of people share their stories about times they took a chance, did things differently, fucked it and excelled as a result.  Sure there’s hindsight but failure challenges us, sharpens us, humanises us.  Let’s normalise it.  Then we’ll dare to do so much more than our self-imposed structures permit.

PPS. A favourite thing in my life is talking to my best friend (we did it yesterday) about how things aren’t unravelling as we expected.  On paper, obvious failures. 

To us, it’s as refreshing as an orangina on a summer holiday!

If anything, failing more might mean delicious conversation with a best friend. Guaranteed support, keen life navigation, love (obviously) and bellies of laughter in the process! Probably over crisps, a dip and that bottle of champagne which was bought for no reason, but just in case.