A reflection after succeeding, and then failing

One of the most debilitating and demoralizing feelings is asking yourself, “How did I get here… again?” We think about life and our goals as a set of progressions where we keep stepping forward and making progress over time. For example, when you’re trying to lose weight, you think about how you’ll lose 1-2 pounds a week until you reach your target weight. What you’re not thinking about is all the fluctuations and setbacks in your journey or how you’ll respond if you lose 10 lbs… and then gain it all back. When climbing a mountain, your focus is just on how to get to the top. But what do you do when you’re over halfway there, you fall, and now you have to start all over again? Does that make the climb a failure? Will you start over again?

A reflection after succeeding… and then failing…

About six months ago, I embarked on a journey to become a more idealized version of myself. I reached a point of frustration with how I was living my life, and I was committed to enacting positive change. I started getting up at 5 am, meditating for 30+ minutes daily, playing basketball, losing weight, blogging, and more. I had taken on so much, and it was not easy, but I kept trying to motivate myself by telling myself that the discomfort of building all these habits was better than the discomfort of living a gluttonous and hedonistic lifestyle. One day, in an effort to give myself a pep talk, I wrote a blog post on the struggle to be better, where I documented this sentiment. I also made a prediction which came true:

I know that I am going to fail. The motivation will go, adversity will hit, and I will fail.

Part of me believed this as I wrote this, but another part hoped this could be a powerful line in a blog post that I could happily reflect on and say, “Well, I was wrong.”

I was not wrong. I succeeded in the first 3-4 months, but I undid all my progress in the last two months. I sit here as I write this, asking myself, “How did I get here… again?”

Why I failed.

Who knows? That’s the honest answer. However, a few things that do come to mind:

I went too hard and too fast (burnout). The faster you go up, the harder you’ll come down. One problem was that I took on too much all at once. Even in past blog posts, you’ll notice that I embraced this idea of tolerating discomfort and somewhat adopting a mantra of ‘no pain, no gain.’ I still stand by it when I say that embracing this kind of mindset is a great motivator in the short term. It is also rooted in the reality that good things are difficult to obtain. However, over time, that mindset wears on you. If you’re juggling too many things at once, your mind or body will give in at some point. Over time, things should get easier as these behaviors turn into habits. If they keep getting harder, that’s a red flag that you’re doing too much at once.
I was too rigid and afraid to fail, and I didn’t know how to take breaks. I couldn’t differentiate between being disciplined and being too rigid. I thought it was a sign of discipline when I woke up at 5 am every day. There were days when I would sleep late, but I forced myself out of bed at 5 am, no matter what. I thought this was discipline. I did not want to break this habit because if I snoozed one day and woke up at 7 am, it would create a vicious cycle of falling asleep late and waking up after 5 am. The problem was that doing this accumulated an insurmountable sleep debt. This not only made it harder to get up each morning, but it also impacted my other goals. I was too afraid to experiment because I didn’t know how to find the right balance and take a break.
I was never satisfied and was targeting the wrong goals. I was nearly 10 pounds lighter, my waist was several inches smaller, and I fitted in a smaller shirt size, and yet I’d look at myself in the mirror and think I hadn’t lost anything. The insecurities didn’t go away. Similarly, I had a healthier work-life balance with work and made a good salary, but it didn’t feel like it was enough. This made me realize that goals like weight loss, work-based goals, fighting addictions, etc… these goals might improve our health or status, but they don’t always improve the quality of our lives because they don’t target the root issues that make us unhappy. This is why, for example, many people give up one addiction but then become addicted to something else. They’re playing whack-a-mole but not targeting the root emotional or spiritual cause.

Simply put, I never really found the right balance with my goals. I adopted all-or-none thinking, so when the circumstances were favorable, I went all-in to the point of exhaustion and burnout. However, the moment the circumstances became unfavorable (e.g., when traveling for work), I adopted the “none” thinking and completely let myself go. Furthermore, my measures of success were mainly extrinsically based, and the goals I set didn’t give me the peace and joy I had desired, but that was because the goals didn’t address the root challenges I faced in my life.

Getting back up with some lessons learned…

Success is not linear. However, if success is not linear, it also means that setbacks are not failures. They’re just a part of the process. I may have to start from level one again, but at least I made it to level two. I also know how to get there and what traps to avoid to progress beyond that level. Some of the things I will try differently:

Change the focus from trying to win the game to maximizing what you can do with the cards you’ve been dealt. To win a game or achieve a goal, so much depends on factors outside of your control. If your only goal is to win, you’ll often be miserable and disappointed. What is in your control is to try to do what you can with whatever circumstance you’re facing. This fundamentally changes the criteria for success.
Set deeper-rooted emotional and spiritual goals that target living a more fulfilling, peaceful, and purposeful life (rather than surface-level goals that only address the symptoms). Neither your physique nor your job title will make you feel better about yourself. These are patchwork solutions. It doesn’t mean that you ignore these things, but you’re setting yourself up for failure if you think these things will solve your life problems.
Listen to yourself. It can be difficult to distinguish between laziness, fatigue, and personal limitations. You have to listen carefully to your mind and body to do this.
Find the grey area. One of my ‘deeper-rooted emotional and spiritual goals’ is to overcome my all-or-none thinking. There is always a middle ground or a balance. The grey area is a spectrum where two things can be true simultaneously. I can be content with my current state while acknowledging there is more to be done. Small wins do count in the grey area, and taking breaks is okay.

The Illusion of Success

As a society, we’ve built up a particular image of what success looks like, often glorifying it rather than sharing its true nature. Content creators know that what sells is sharing the “before” and “after” images of success. It is the bait that hooks you. The before is relatable, and it motivates you to consume more content to learn how to enact change in your own life. The problem is that these stories are told in hindsight, from the perspective of when success has already been achieved. They’re not told from the perspective of someone riddled with self-doubt and doesn’t know if they’ll reach that “after” image, with their track record suggesting that they will not. As a result, we get fed a story where success looks smooth and linear, with the constant failures, pain, and suffering left out.

How this distorted image of success sets us up for failure

When we see a polished version of someone’s success story, we assume that if we follow the same steps as this individual, the path to success will be easier than it looks. We develop these unrealistic expectations. As a result, when we go down this path toward success and are hit with adversity, we begin to doubt ourselves.

It’s harder than it looked like in that story, so I must be doing something wrong.

Once people hit this point, they will usually do one of three things:

Give up
Push further, hit adversity again, and then give up
Consume more content, try something different, hit adversity, and give up.

The problem is that nobody tells you that failure and struggle are not signs of inadequacy but are part of the process.

What success actually looks like

Let’s take an example of early risers. I’ve always been told that successful people get up early in the morning and are highly productive. They’ve already achieved the day’s most important tasks before others have even woken up.

The morning routine of a high-achiever

I get up promptly at 5 in the morning before the sun rises. I grab my green tea and spend the first hour of my morning on my patio, soaking up the fresh air and writing down five things I am grateful for and the three most important things I want to accomplish today. The first hour of my morning is sacred and dedicated to setting my intentions for the day, so I avoid using any technology. Afterward, with a clear and relaxed mind, I meditate for at least thirty minutes. This practice grounds me and ensures I start each day with clarity and purpose. Afterward, I head to the gym for a balanced blend of cardio and strength training. Once I come back, I have a refreshing and filling matcha latte with almond milk and an organic plant-based protein powder. After I’m done taking a shower, I dive into the list that I made earlier and finish it before noon.

Although it’s a little much for me, I’d be thrilled if my morning was like this.

Because this idea of a ‘perfect morning routine’ has been ingrained in me for years, I also set out to wake up before sunrise.

The morning routine of someone trying to become a high-achiever

The night before, I set up three alarms, one for 5am, one for 5:07am, and one for 5:10am. I almost always snooze the first one but eventually force myself up by 5:10am. I first grab my coffee with half and half and spend the first hour of my morning on my bed, drinking my coffee while trying to stay awake and waiting for the sleep inertia to wear off. I’ll scroll my phone, often watching random YouTube videos. Once the coffee has kicked in and I’m confident I won’t fall back asleep, I’ll start to meditate. The first 15 minutes of meditation aren’t too bad, but for the last 15, I start to get pretty restless and sometimes a bit cranky. By the time my alarm rings, I usually sigh a sigh of relief that I’m done and just want to stretch for a minute because my body feels so tense from sitting for so long. I’ll go downstairs and do some journaling, but sometimes my heart is not in it because I’m still pretty tired. I eventually muster up the energy to go for a workout. I’ve really only been focused on cardio because it’s what I know, and I am intimated by the idea of going to a gym to lift weights in front of people who are much stronger than I am. I am completely exhausted when I get back from working out. I sluggishly force myself into the shower, which feels like a big chore. Once I get out, I usually look to have a quick breakfast. Once in a while, I’ll have a protein shake and dump some powder into milk, but I’ll usually just have some boiled eggs with a slice of bread and butter. I’m still pretty hungry afterward, but I try not to eat anymore since I’m trying to trim a few pounds. Instead, I’ll just have a hot beverage. Afterward, I start my work but often feel like I’m playing catch up all day.

Even in my retelling and personal account of waking up at 5am, I’m glorifying it. This is what my morning is like when I actually manage to get up. After doing this for about a month, at least once a week or so, I’ll usually get up, grab my coffee, and go right back asleep for 15-20 minutes.

Over time, I’ve learned that ‘success’ kind of sucks. It’s full of setbacks, self-doubt, and pain. This is the reality of success.

If success sucks, why pursue it anyways?

I’ve had to ask myself this time and time again. I can only speak for myself, but two things keep me going:

The pursuit of success, despite being hard and painful, is still more pleasurable than accepting mediocrity. At the end of the day, at least I’m trying, and that’s something to be proud of.
There is a pleasure that comes from pain. The only way I can describe this is through an example. You go workout for 30 minutes. You workout for just 30 minutes a few times a week, and all week, you’re sore, yet you don’t see a damn difference when you look in the mirror. Your muscles are aching, you’re a step slower in everything you do, and sometimes, just getting up from a sitting position feels daunting. And yet, every time you get up and feel that pain, you feel a sense of pride and accomplishment and want to give yourself a pat on the back. I worked out, heck yeah! The same goes for anything you do. You don’t feel this every day, but when you feel it, it feels incredible.

Final words…

We’ve been conditioned to view success as this smooth and linear progression from ‘before’ to ‘after,’ often presented by content creators trying to get more viewers and subscribers. However, these success stories don’t just come from Youtubers and social media influencers but also from our own social circles, where our families and friends will share their achievements while glossing over the setbacks and painful moments.

We live in a culture where success is glorified and adversity is considered ugly, so we omit those parts of the story altogether. However, success cannot exist without adversity, and nor can it exist without failure. When we internalize this and normalize failure and struggle as part of the path to success, it frees us from the expectation that we must live up to this unrealistic image. Consequently, it increases the likelihood that we will, in fact, succeed.

The struggle to be better

For the longest time, I’ve been enamored with the idea of the ideal self, a fictional version of myself that represents the type of person I want to be. A person that is kind, loving, patient, resilient, disciplined, focused, [insert endless list of positive traits]. More often than not, this is just a fleeting thought, and I joyfully live my life in ignorance, on autopilot, and a slave to my environment, my conditioned habits, and my impulses. However, on occasion, this tiny voice inside the back of my head starts to yell at me, and it tries to make me feel guilty for living how I do. This voice tends to get more prominent when something happens in my life, whether at work or home, that causes a level of discontentment. For a short period of time, this voice tells me:

You need to take accountability and ownership over your life. If you want things to change and get out of living your life on autopilot, you have to be the driver of that change. You can’t sit and wait for the right opportunity or circumstance because it doesn’t exist. Besides, you don’t have the best track record with navigating favorable circumstances. Do something! Make the change, make the push!

In most cases, this voice, what I like to call the voice of the ideal self, depresses me because it reminds me how far I am from being an idealized version of myself. It reminds me of past failures and struggles that I’ve had with changing and trying to be a better person. Due to my questionable coping mechanisms when faced with an unpleasant emotion, about 3/4 of the time, when this voice yells at me, I try to distract myself from it. I do something to get my mind off of it, do something to suppress that voice and let it calm down. Most of the time, I’m successful in doing that, and I’m able to go back to the status quo until the next thing upsets me.

However, the other 25% of the time, I get a little motivated and inspired. I say to myself, “Yeah, you know what, let’s change. Let’s do something. I’m going to try something. I’m going to hit the gym tomorrow, wake up at 5 in the morning, be more mindful throughout the day, [insert list of activities that will magically turn my life around].”

When I’m motivated, it helps me get through a few repetitions. I might string together a few successful days or even weeks of enacting change. However, the problem with motivation is that it comes, and then it goes. It’s not a sustainable anchor, and once the motivation wanes, any positive change is undone at the first sight of adversity. It takes just one tough situation, and I give up. I get disappointed, so the voice of the ideal self comes back. However, this time (because of my questionable coping skills), I distract myself and go back to being blissfully ignorant and on autopilot.

And this cycle has been going on for years.

After piling on years and years of failed attempts to improve, there is just one small positive thing I can take away from it all; at least I’ve developed the wisdom and awareness that this is just how I am. That’s it. I can see it when it’s happening, as it is happening, and I don’t get as disappointed when I fail because I’m expecting to fail.

….

A few weeks ago, the ideal self started talking to me. Once again, it came after I was upset about something that I don’t even remember (that’s a lie, I do remember). This time, I was feeling motivated. The only difference this time was that I wasn’t delusional about the fact that this wouldn’t be a smooth ride. As a matter of fact, I know that I am going to fail. The motivation will go, adversity will hit, and I will fail. The only question that I am not sure about yet, is, will I get back up?

I’ve been reflecting a lot on my past failures. I’ve been trying to anticipate what is going to make me fail and have been trying to put measures in place to proactively address and account for it. I know I won’t be able to account for everything, but can I at least account for the obvious things I have tripped up on millions of times in the past? If I can do that, I will still fail… but at least it will be a new set of failures and challenges. I’m not going to win the whole game, but can I at least get past level 1 and get to level 2…that is the goal.

A few weeks in, and so far, I’m still chugging along. The process is not glorious. What keeps me going, though, is knowing that the only other option is to go back to the way things were, a slave to my laziness and impulses. It’s easier, but easier doesn’t mean better. Easier doesn’t mean happier.