Don’t Call it a Comeback
Everybody loves a comeback story: Rocky, Ulysses S. Grant, Monica Seles, Steve Jobs. It's a winning archetype that we just can't get enough of. We love it because it resonates. We've all failed. It's a common bond we share. I admire someone who has crashed and burned, yet risen from the ashes. I'd much rather have dinner with the CEO who went bankrupt before building his empire than the first-time founder who's riding high on his recent unicorn startup designation. I'm going to learn a lot more from the person who failed before ultimately succeeding than I am from the person who hasn't built up any scar tissue yet.
Resiliency is relatable because it's tied to adversity, which is universal. We appreciate how hard it can be to rebound from failure, and that sometimes, we simply can't (or don't). But what is often underappreciated is the fact that the very act of getting back up is a win. I love the Japanese proverb "Nana korobi, ya oki", which translates to "fall seven times, stand up eight". Stay in the fight. Get back at it tomorrow. The ability to show up every day, rain or shine, is an incredible asset. It's more powerful than we give it credit for. It's more than grit or perseverance. It can portend remarkable success.
There's a reason they award a "Comeback Player of the Year" in professional sports. This is the highest level of athlete in the world; the very best of the best. They only give out a handful of annual awards, and they deem it worthwhile to acknowledge the player who bounced back from adversity. Elite performers value resiliency because they know how hard it can be. We value resiliency because we know how hard life can be.
For another illustration of the power of staying in the fight, let's look at less obvious example of resiliency in sports: the NBA's Sixth Man Award. The spirit of this award is to recognize a player who excelled in a non-starting role. How does making millions of dollars as an athlete coming off the bench demonstrate resiliency? If you've ever been an athlete, or aspired to be one, you'll understand: none of us grow up dreaming of being a bench player one day. Even if that reserve is still one of the most talented players on the planet, we all want to be in the game. So in a sense, the 6th man has failed in his attempt to be a starter. But get this: since the league starting giving out the Sixth Man Award in 1982, 36 different players have won the award. Five of those players are now in the National Basketball Hall of Fame (with some recent winners likely to join once they're eligible for enshrinement). That means at least five players who "weren't good enough" to start on their own team were later recognized as one of the sports' all-time greats. Coming up short can be a springboard to bigger things, if we're just strong enough to keep going.
Overcoming adversity is so tied to success that resiliency training is a common practice in athletics and the military. They practice hard things so they can do hard things when it counts. They will force failure so they'll know how to respond to it. In our everyday life, we don't need to buy a deprivation chamber, run an ultra-marathon, or weigh ourselves down at the bottom of a pool to build resilience, though. The great thing about adversity is that we don't need to seek it out. The universe will bring it right to our doorstep.
So, while training to failure can be an effective approach to building muscle, we don't live our lives in the gym. Life is hard enough. Seeking failure is stupid. But fearing failure is even worse. While it can be counterintuitive, conditioning ourselves to embrace the opportunity that failure presents can be powerful. You won? Great. You lost? Sometimes, even better: you now have a bigger opportunity to improve than had you won.
I've written about Thomas Edison's long and messy journey to invent the electric light bulb. He experienced thousands of failures before a success that would change the world forever. Edison embraced the opportunity of failure when he said, "I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work." I've found just about as many things in my own life that don't work. But on that same path, I've found a couple that do. I'm sure I have thousands of more failures laid out ahead of me, but I plan on picking up a few more wins along the way.
You can't win Comeback Player of the Year if you don't fail first. So good news: we're all decidedly eligible to win. Fall seven times, stand up eight.