Fail, Fail Again, Fail Better by Pema Chödrön

Pema Chödrön’s Fail, Fail Again, Fail Better, the namesake of Samuel Beckett’s famous quote, is a nugget of a book that consists of Chödrön’s commencement speech at a graduation ceremony and a short interview that expands on the contents of that speech. I call it a nugget for the size of the book that makes it an extremely quick read. But the golden wisdom it offers, which can be applied to not just failure-type situations but to all instances in life, particularly in dealing with our deep regrets and mistakes, makes it a weighty nugget.

To me, Pema Chödrön is a softened, Buddhist version of Ayn Rand, in that she has an astounding ability to spell out that aspect of human tendency, which cannot be otherwise spelled easily. I bet it is a skill that almost all spiritual teachers acquire at having stared incessantly into the recesses of their minds. And that is precisely what Pema Chödrön is also suggesting her readers to do in this book – whether failure is in terms of achievements in the external world or regrettable mistakes exclusive to the eyes of our conscience, instead of pinning the blame on others or labeling ourselves as failure, we should allow ourselves to feel the rawness and vulnerability of it all, turn toward the bad feeling and lean into the sharp points, acknowledge the regret of the mistake, and be able to hold it as a part of our humanness, so when life throws a curveball again we’ll be able to fail better.

In a nutshell, we can deal with the uncomfortable feeling and be stronger for it or escape from the self-deprecating sensation by shoving it under the folds of our consciousness and remain forever chained to it.

Halfway into the book upon grasping this message , I thought: ‘Well said, respected Ani Pema. Unfortunately, easier said too!’

I should know a thing or two about escaping from the sharp-pointed realities in life. Be it having to accept the selective inequities in God’s plan or looking within to level with my inner demons, I have almost never braved past a certain point with my inquiries for fear of what I might find. In fact, recently a simple contemplation about the universe stripped me of my safe cocoon, made me question the integrity of prayers, and landed me in a spiritual ditch. So I can only imagine what kind of reality I will have to face about myself if I were to lean on my regrets and mistakes. This actually reminds me of an anonymous quote that I found in the bounteous land of the internet-

“Stalked by Demons, Guarded by Angels”

Anonymous

Sums up just right! Because regrettably, not all of us possess the faculty to sit down and have tea with our demons. Some of us have fed and nourished our inner demons for too long that they are no longer just an isolated offshoot of our mistakes but a separate entity by themselves. Even worse is that some of our demons have laid roots and spread branches, underneath the shades of which we sometimes shockingly find ourselves resting. Then how is one suppose to look at their demons in the eye, when the eyes that stare back leer in contempt for the unsettling memories; how could one level with their darkness when the reflections in the mirror remind us of the scars that still remain after profuse apologies and generous forgiveness. I have always stayed on the surface where my demons are concerned, never venturing any closer or any deeper. I watch them from a safe distance from behind the fence while wondering who between the two of us is actually the one inside the cage.

So I nodded my head sideways when Pema Chödrön said what she said and kept reading on; and then came the big jolt in the book, the tremor that cracks your ground and drops you a level deeper where viewpoints shift and epiphanies happen.

In the interview part of the book, when Pema Chödrön was questioned about her personal mistakes and remorse surrounding it, she mentioned an interesting anecdote about Dalai Lama – His Holiness was once asked by an interviewer if he has any regrets in his life. Dalai Lama replied yes and he recounted an incident where an older monk came to him and asked about doing certain high-level esoteric practice. Dalai Lama casually remarked that it would be a difficult practice and was more suited for someone much younger. He later found out that the older monk committed suicide so he could be reborn in a younger body to do the practice. When asked how he dealt with that feeling of regret and how he got rid of it, Dalai Lama considered the question silently for a while and then replied, “I didn’t get rid of it. It’s still there.”

Whoa!

How is a person supposed to level with something like that? But the man who is peace personified did, not by casting out his demons but instead by holding them close to his heart where they served a different purpose – a source of compassion and empathy instead of guilt and self-contempt. He accepted his regrets as a part of his humanness instead of letting them weigh him down and used that emotion to guide him to be more empathetic.

It is from this new viewpoint that I now wonder if it is the dark reflections in the mirror that really show us how to look for light; if it is our demons that stand watch by the swing door reminding us on which side we must stay during troubled moments; and if to know our inner demons is the only way to truly know our own conscience.

So then tell me, O Wise One… are we really stalked by demons? Or are we guarded by them?

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