Processing Failure

I'm gonna come right out and say it: I failed (don't worry we'll get into the specifics here shortly, but I just had to get that out bluntly first). This is not the first time I've failed in life, and likely won't be the last (if it were to be the last time I failed, that would essentially mean it was the last time I tried, and I'm sure as shit not doing that). Admitting failure, and/or sharing it publicly, obviously isn't fun, but to me it feels important. We all share the highlights of our journeys, but it's much less frequent that we share the lows. Well, I've read enough inspirational business books to know that this kind of vulnerability is really powerful (I'm looking at you Brene Brown). Of course I know that "failure" is inevitable. Failure is a learning experience. Failure is a sign to make changes and keep moving forward. Anyone with a creative, or entrepreneurial mind, will experience failure in life. Why? Because we try new things. And sometimes they don't work. It really is that simple; however, that doesn't mean failure feels good, and most of us tend to chase feeling good (which is a whole other tangent I could get on, but we'll save it for another day).

So, what was my recent failure? A course I created called Cutting Codependent Cords. It was meant to be an 8 week, group container, for personal coaching, around the idea of healing codependency, and cutting energetic cords. I spent weeks creating PDF workbooks, guided breathwork and meditation videos, and Spotify playlists. I read books and articles, watched videos, and listened to podcasts' of experts on the topic. I created instagram reels, stories, and long-captioned posts promoting the course, and also just sharing information about the topic. I shared some of my own experiences and issues working through codependency and chatted with people via DMs who explained that they were, or had been, experiencing similar issues. The "launch" of the course (the active promoting and selling period) came and went, and I ended up having several people complete applications, but ultimately none of them financially committed. If they all would have said, "yes," I would have made about $5,000 but instead I made $0. This is not an attempt at pity, it is simply a description of how much time I "wasted" on something that didn't pan out like I intended it to. I have "wasted" in quotes because I don't actually believe it was time wasted, though I'm sure many would feel that way, and I'm sure I did have moments of feeling like that.

When something like this happens, we have a couple choices:

1. Play the victim and throw a pity party; bitch to anyone who will listen

2. Take the launch failure to heart and quit business entirely

3. Assess what we could have done differently, make changes, and try again

4. Accept that perhaps what we thought was a good idea simply wasn't, and try something else

Perhaps we can even make a combination of these choices. And I think that's ultimately what I did.

For starters, I should admit that I kind of gave up early on this project (not the actual "work" of it, but the "selling" of it). I was really excited at the beginning of the launch, but as the month progressed and the start date got closer, I weaned off. I didn't follow up with a lot of my leads, I didn't keep promoting on stories and posts, etc. There was clearly something in me that accepted "failure" before it actually arrived, which I'll be the first to say is ALWAYS going to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. So, because of that personal belief, I've spent some time examining why I was so willing to give up.

Did I not actually want to hold the group?

Did I not actually want to re-submerge myself into the healing process of codependency with a bunch of other people, when I'd already spent the last year doing that for myself?

Did I not even want to be a personal coach anymore?

Was this failure a sign from God to examine (again) what I actually want to do?

That last one is a biggie, and I don't think we should always turn to that, but I do think it's often true. When something doesn't work out, it MAY be because there is actually something else more deserving of our attention. There is, potentially, a bigger, or should I say different, purpose calling out to us. No, I am not quitting my business. No, I do not want to stop being a coach. However, I do absolutely despise "selling" or "marketing" myself and my business so much on social media. I do need to be more selfish with (protective of) my energy, time, and my own healing. I do want to focus more on other, more creative, tasks. And with those acknowledgments discovered, it's easier to see why this specific course tanked.

I was not meant to spend the next two months talking about codependency with a bunch of people twice a week. BLEH! Even thinking about it now sounds draining. If it had worked out, I would (right now) be on a call, leading a weekly somatic movement session. This week's theme would have been detachment. Listen, I know it could have been beautiful, and I know the work I put in ahead of time, and the space I'm able to hold would have really helped people, but let me just say: I'm glad I don't have to. Typing this now is making me realize that this failure, may have, in fact, been another lesson for me in healing my own codependency. How? Because no one asked me to become a life coach. No one asked me to teach them about codependency or what I did (am still doing? may always be doing?) to heal my own. And just because I'm able to see a problem exists (especially collective problems), does not mean I have to be the one to fix them. And for what it's worth, in case you need to hear this: neither do you.

I've stated a few times throughout here that "failure" is an opportunity to shift directions and keep going, so where do we go from here? Well I'm happy to report that even though this specific launch of this specific course didn't succeed, my overall business is still alive. I've had more 1:1 bookings in the past couple weeks than the entire time I was pushing my course, and I haven't even been on social media (this is thrilling to me). I'm learning, time and time again, that as the seasons change so do we, and so do circumstances. What may have been working before, might not anymore (it also may not have really even been working how you thought it was). I don't want to be a "content creator," and I don't have to be. That's an illusion that somehow creeped into my head, and stuck for awhile, and it feels good to release the need to "sell on social media." I'm protecting my energy from internet leeches (a very real thing) and it's quickly proving to not only be the smartest business move, but also freeing up time for me to do things I really enjoy creatively (like writing, playing my sound bowls, dancing, etc).

I'm not sure there's a universal lesson or take away here, but if you've made it this far, thanks. Thanks for being a witness to my existence on this planet. It's pretty fucking trippy that we're all here, living our own complex lives, and trying, failing, and succeeding in our own unique ways. Trippy and beautiful. I hope you're willing to fail, because that would mean you're willing to try.

Growth and peace are always within reach.