Still thinking about those Brene Brown videos on TED, and in particular today, the one where she paraphrases Roosevelt’s “man in the arena” quote:
It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.
“Citizenship in a Republic,”
Speech at the Sorbonne, Paris, April 23, 1910
The part I keep thinking about is at least he fails while daring greatly. There’s that, and also the part where Brene Brown talks about how, after the first TED video basically went viral, her life as she knew it was over, and she realized how despite all of her professional efforts, she had unwittingly been playing small and trying to stay in the shadows, trying not be noticed too much. I know I have also been guilty of this.
How about you? Do you have the courage to fail greatly? Are there ways in which you play small? Brene Brown’s research weaves a story that suggests that true happiness and meaningful connection come from the ability to be authentic, to dare greatly. In fact, she says that the birthplace of creativity, innovation and change is vulnerability – this ability to risk ourselves.
Food for thought. I’m interested to know how this strikes you.