Reframing Failure and Picking My Own Radio Station:

Historically, I would keep any exciting life change carefully under wraps until there was an overwhelming certainty that all would be well with the new endeavor and then I could triumphantly reveal that I am doing this thing! Cue applause.

But, with my recent decision to pursue graduate school I broke with tradition and shared my plans with everyone everywhere.

Maybe I was subconsciously looking for affirmation for my choice (which I found in ample supply), or maybe it was simply because I get a kick out of riding the edge of my comfort zone (which I absolutely do).

Whatever the reason, I made my uncertain pursuit very public.

Bolstered by the support of trusted advisors and a conviction that I am a strong candidate, I waited for the acceptance letters to arrive in my inbox while I pondered the pros and cons of the two esteemed programs I had applied to: The Family Institute at Northwestern and Steinhardt at NYU.

I found that the uncertainty was filled with hope and I felt light with pure possibilities. It was absolutely delightful.

Then a few weeks ago, I received the anticipated email from Northwestern in my inbox. With no hesitation and a giddiness I opened the email to find “…I regret to inform you that you have been denied admission to Northwestern University…”

Enter absolute shock and bewilderment. My heart is even racing now simply recalling the memory.

I felt ashamed, humiliated, confused, defeated, and completely unmoored by the certainty this letter provided.

I felt shattered and I had no idea how to stop sobbing and move forward.

Finding myself in the precarious position of many people knowing about my pursuit, which totally amplified the humiliation bit, I boldly reached for my phone and began sharing the upsetting news with those closest to my process.

It was EXTREMELY vulnerable to do this. But it’s all I could think of for my next step.

And then responses began to roll in. Profound, heartfelt, supportive words that brought tears of joy to my eyes as I felt their kind words wrap around me like a warm blanket.

In the past, not sharing my endeavors meant I was the only one who saw and cared for the wounds of failure. And that was fine and personal and I always came around to try again.

But because this had been shared so widely, and I opened myself to the vulnerability of that, the reception my failure received and the love I experienced in turn was unimaginable.

A new appreciation for connection and community took root and I recognized the profound gift of failing in front of others. Paradoxically, this experience opened the possibility to receive tremendous love in return and has completely reframed what it means to be witnessed in a failure.

Blessings in the blow.

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Don’t get me wrong though, I spent a great deal of time struggling in the wake of this personal defeat. The fear of not getting into NYU was suffocating, I felt depressed, and going about the simple tasks of my day were utterly exhausting. I was scraping by personally and also navigating the gauntlet of emotions welling up around global events like the war in the Middle East, hurricane Helene devastating communities where my extended family lives, and the growing tension of the impending U.S. Presidential election.

My inner world was ravaged and dysfunctional.

I went on like this for awhile, just getting by. I talked about it with friends, I totally laid in bed and watched the shows, I asked for help.

I devoted so much time to feeling my feelings I genuinely grew bored of feeling this way!

And with this softness toward myself something began to shift.

I realized I had a choice:

(1) I could easily keep wallowing and that would be totally understandable and fine, but likely not helpful.

(2) I could turn toward things that light me up, bring me joy, and give me a sense of aliveness. Two possible options, totally my choice.

I went with the latter, quickly making a list of simple joys I had at my fingertips and I set out to experience the wonderful things my life is already full of.

And you know what, it’s worked like magic.  I’ve been riding a steady stream of feeling good since I made the shift.

The way I see it, it’s like FM radio. At any given moment there is music streaming through the ether to be tuned into. You can pick up country, classic rock, jazz, or pop 100 over a matter of seconds with a little shift of the dial.

I spent awhile on the “poor me” and “wtf am I going to do” stations. I was saturated with those stations. But with this choice I decided to see what’s playing on the “I’m surrounded with beauty and everything is going to work out (but maybe not the way I thought)” station. Boy, has it been a game changer!

And I know I have full permission to tune back into those other stations if I’d like, but I’ve been having so much fun enjoying my days that that impulse hasn’t occurred to me.

I don’t know if it will help shape my outcome, but it sure does feel a lot more pleasurable as I await a response from NYU.

I’ll go with that.