Failing Forward

How failure fuels success

Hey It’s Jenny, your home yoga hype girl!

Welcome to my weekly newsletter where I share insights from my personal practice & the best online yoga resources, handpicked just for you.

Today’s newsletter is the 8th in a series of themed issues about change. To read previous issues, check out the Monthly Theme Archive

Failing Forward

Brett Larkin introduced me to the term “Failing Forward” during a lecture on mindset and reframing failure. Brett borrowed the concept from author John Maxwell, who coined the term when he urged his readers to “Fail early, fail often, but always fail forward.”

The main idea behind failing forward, is that If we embrace failure, it can be our most valuable teacher.

Failing forward is essentially trial and error, a chance to learn from our own direct experiences. Every new endeavor involves some failure. It takes several attempts to become proficient at a new skill. This applies to everything in life, from learning to play the guitar to starting a business.

"I've missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I've lost almost 300 games. Twenty-six times, I've been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I've failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed."

Michael Jordan

Many people use the idea of failing forward to fuel their success, but one group stands out: athletes. And among them, there’s an elite subset. If athletes are the “fail forward” military, these guys are the navy SEALs.

They are wrestlers.

I might be biased. My dad, uncles and cousins wrestled. I married a wrestler and my son is a wrestler. As a wrestling mom, I ate, breathed and slept wrestling for over a decade of my life. I love the sport and I have a special place in my heart for everyone involved in it.

I’ve watched thousands of wrestling matches, sat in on hundreds of practices and had a front row seat to the most epic and inspiring arena for failing forward: The wrestling mat.

You’re either winning or you’re learning

My son started wrestling when he was five years old, as soon as he was old enough to join the team.

For the first couple of seasons, it was all fun and games. He enjoyed roughhousing with the other kids and the excitement of road trips for tournaments.

Then, sometime in his third season, he started winning matches and medaled at a tournament for the first time. I watched as my little wrestler beamed from the podium, determination blazing in his eyes. He had tasted victory and he wanted more.

It just so happened that, the same year, he faced his most formidable opponent to date - one who would push him to the brink of defeat and change the way he wrestled forever.

Her name was Ariel and she came from a wrestling family. Her dad was a coach and all five of her older brothers wrestled. Ariel was famous for her “head-and-arm”, a wrestling technique she executed with deadly precision, quickly defeating most of her her opponents, including my son.

As the season progressed, and he came up against Ariel over and over again, I watched his confidence wane. No matter how hard he tried, he could not beat her.

Then, near the end of the season, my son caught a break when we experienced a delayed start time, due to technical difficulties, at our home tournament.

As we waited for the tournament to start, we wandered around the school until we crossed paths with one of my son’s favorite coaches. In true coach form, he asked my son if he was “ready to wrestle”. My son replied with a half hearted shrug and I explained the situation.

The coach gave me a knowing look before kneeling down to adress my son “Those head-and-arms will get you every time. Why don’t we head back in the gym and work on some countermoves?”

The coach spent the rest of the morning in the gym with my son, working on a counter-move called “The Chair”. First, he demonstrated how to do it, practicing the flow and movement over and over and over. Then he grabbed a few kids from our team and had them throw head-and-arms to let my son practice defending himself.

By the time my son finally walked out on the mat to face Ariel, in his first match of the day, he had been fending off head-and-arms for hours.

As soon as the whistle blew, Ariel went for a head-and-arm. This time, instead of getting pinned immediately, my son used everything his coach taught him to end up on top. Ariel kept trying and he kept countering successfully.

I looked back through old videos and found the match. It was exciting to watch it back, all these years later. I’ve shared a snippet of it below. Please excuse my psycho wrestling mom screams. I was very excited.

My son won that match. In fact, Ariel never beat him again.

He would go on to become every bit as deadly with his “Chair” as Ariel had been with her “head-and-arm”. He won many matches with it and wrestled his way to a state championship win at the age of 9.

The first picture was taken seconds after my son won his first state championship title. What you don't see, is me behind the camera, crying my eyes out. I was in absolute disbelief and full of pride. Winning a state championship is a HUGE accomplishment. The second picture is a few hours later, with his bracket and his medal.

Early in my tenure as a wrestling mom, I was told “You’re either winning or you’re learning” and boy is it the truth.

Winning is great. Winning builds confidence and highlights strengths. It’s the pay off for hardwork.

Losing is what makes a wrestler great. Losing makes wrestlers resilient and tenacious. It takes a lot of courage to get your ass handed to you, pull yourself together and walk right back out on the mat to try again - multiple times in one day.

Every wrestler gets their fair share of both experiences.

In the first picture, my son is on the bottom, getting the life choked out him. Just kidding, but that's what if feels like from the sidelines sometimes. In the second picture, he's the one doing the choking. The move he's using is called the cradle and he loves it almost as much as the chair.

Wrestlers know that losing does not equal defeat…unless you let it. They know how to channel pain, frustration and disappointment into growth. They use every setback to their advantage.

After a loss, wrestlers go home and reflect. They look fearlessly at the weaknesses exposed by failure and use that knowledge to direct their focus in practice. By the time they’re ready to compete again, they are better, stronger and more self aware than ever.

Wrestlers fail forward and we can all learn a thing or two from them.

Next time you fail at something, don’t give up! Take a step back and think about what failure is trying to teach you. Learn your lesson well, and apply it by going out and failing in a different way, over and over and over again, getting a little closer to your goal each time.

Fail as many times as it takes to succeed.

Fail fast. Fail Often. Fail Forward.

Morning Yoga Practice: Cultivate Confidence and Worthiness on Your Mat | Yoga With Allie Van Vossen

15 Minutes | All Levels | Beginner Friendly

Whenever we set out to accomplish something, big or small, our sense of worthiness plays a crucial role.

Practices like this morning yoga sequence are an effective way to nurture self worth. Allie combines the affirmation “I am worthy” with gentle, somatic movement to awaken confidence first thing in the morning.

Any day that starts with “I am worthy” is bound to be good.

Self Sabotage Recovery: Yoga Nidra For Uncovering and Healing | Ayla Nova

30 minutes | All Levels | Beginner Friendly

Reframing failure is all about overcoming self sabotage, a challenge we all face. When it comes to making change, we are often our own biggest obstacle. It’s easy to feel defeated when faced with setback after setback. We all have moments when we just want to give up.

Next time you find yourself in one of those moments, reach for this reassuring Yoga Nidra practice from Ayla Nova. Use it as an encouraging reminder that you are capable of success and you are worthy of too.

My son wasn’t the only one failing forward in the wrestling room. His mom was learning a lot too. The biggest, most difficult and valuable lesson I took away from all those years was: I can’t wrestle for him - in competition or in life.

When he steps into that ring, he’s alone. All I can do is watch from the sideline, cheer him on and be there to catch him when he falls. I can shout encouragement, wipe away tears and work myself into an absolute tizzy…but I cannot do it for him.

That lesson didn’t come easy. It took a long time and many missteps to learn it. But I’m sure glad I did. It’s serving me well now that he’s becoming more and more independent by the day.

I hope you guys have an excellent week! I hope you find the courage to get in the ring. I hope you win some, lose some and then get right back out there. Because that’s what life is all about.