My deep, miraculous journey of letting go? It’s a fail.

You’ll either be a failure or a quitter.

Here’s something I realized. I unconsciously believe if I write something down, it will magically be easier. Turns out, miracles don’t happen because they are written down on paper. I literally have a pile of failed resolutions because my magic pen wasn’t working. Okay, not literally a pile, because they are all forgotten in the trash now.

It’s probably the perfectionist in me [*awkward self-conscious laugh*] a trait to address another month. But I unknowingly, ridiculously believed I would have instantaneous results because I wrote down all these great ideas. Imagine my despair and dismay when the New Year didn’t bring a new me. It was still the same ole’ struggling human that has existed for over 40 years.

All my imagined success? You guessed it! Fail. [*defeated sob*]

How am I being controlled by an inanimate object?

The deep and profound answer is that there is a whole lot of science and even more money behind my phone being carefully manipulated to draw me in, time and time again.

But that’s not what my inner mean girl is telling me. “You’re kind of pathetic,” she says, with a down turned nose and disgusted eyes.  “How on earth will this become a permanent thing when you can’t even do it for a few days?” “Fail Fail Fail. Why are you even trying?” I know! She’s mean.

Let me share with you one of my failures among many.

My 5-year old, Arrow, wanted me to watch the new My Little Pony movie with him. I know, that sounds a little questionable, but it’s full of action and adventure. Don’t worry. We reined (no pun intended) Josh into watching it as well.

I loved My Little Ponies as a kid. In fact, the My Little Pony house I shared with my sister was one of my most memorable Christmas gifts.

Now, it just doesn’t have the same magic. It sounded, well, boring. We “watched the movie together” while I, oh so sneakily, peaked at my phone. Scroll, scroll, scroll into nothingness.

I’m sure he knew what I was doing the whole time. My kids usually peg my lameness faster than I can shove chocolate into my mouth.

My phone felt productive though [*queue self-righteous halo above my head*]. It was so productive, I have no idea what I did on it. [*inner mean girl eye roll*]. Okay, the truth is, I had no intention.

I was avoiding the anticipated feeling of boredom that would overcome me.

I tell my kids they won’t die of boredom, but I’m not sure if that’s true for me.

When I realized what a pathetic mom I was being, I tuned back in.

Turns out, My Little Ponies have a really hard time putting the gem in the magical place to save their world. Granted, they have hooves and absolutely no fingers or thumbs with which to grab the gem. Still it seemed to stick to their hoof just fine. What was their problem?

It was incredibly frustrating to watch! Josh and I may have given up a year of our lives to the anxiety it created when they dropped the gems for what felt like the 60th time. I wouldn’t have increased my risk of heart attack from a kids’ movie if I had been zoned-out on my phone. You see the value!

Truly though. The most productive use of my time was not on my phone? It was sharing this movie with Arrow.

We took a magical journey together and I was there as he experienced My Little Ponies, just like I had as a child. I thought this would have been a more likely journey with one of my five daughters. But, it was a surprisingly fun escapade with my two boys instead. Arrow loved the action and adventure, and way too many failed gem placement attempts, and wanted to bring me along on the adventure.

“You’re pathetic,” my inner mean girl chimed in after the fact, “Why couldn’t you just watch a movie with your little boy?”

Am I an addict?

It sounds harsh and scary, but I think it’s accurate. Granted, I’m not spending all day on my phone. But almost every day I wish I would have spent my scrolling time, doing something else.

I’m always telling myself I don’t have time for things I want to be doing. But mysteriously, I always have time for that quick phone check. I don’t know why it’s an hour later when I look up from my phone.

Logically, my behavior makes no sense.

This is not just a “me” problem. Thank goodness! Not that I want everyone else to have my struggles, but it’s nice to have some companionship in being kind of lame.

According to The National Center for Biotechnology Information (they sound like they know what they are talking about), “…addictions, whether chemical or behavioral, share certain characteristics including salience, compulsive use (loss of control), mood modification and the alleviation of distress, tolerance and withdrawal, and the continuation despite negative consequences.”

Pretty sure my above story clearly proved I lack control.

Alleviating unpleasant feelings? Yes. Did I just overshare?

Mood modification? That’s also a yes. See story of boredom above.

When I have little to no self control, and have absolutely no purpose other than avoiding one more pile of dishes, addiction feels accurate. Sure it doesn’t mean I’m a raging out of control maniac. [*per my enabling angel*] No need to validate if this is accurate with Josh. [*nervous laugh*]

But, I’m handing my control over to an inanimate object, like I hand money over to my horses. If you own horses you understand. At least with horses, the money they eat up feeds them. The only thing my phone feeds is my desperate desire to avoid the hard things in life.

Did you know relapse is part of addiction recovery?

It’s sound contradictory, right? Maybe you don’t like the word addiction, it’s a hard one to swallow.

Here’s an easier way to palate it, regression is part of progress. Two steps forward, three steps back. It’s not a novel concept, but it is a hard one to personally embrace. I’d rather just take three steps forward, and then three more, and then a mile. You get where I’m going? (pun intended)

You know who doesn’t have relapses or failure? People who aren’t trying

I know, this from eh-hum [*clears throat and coughs*] personal experience.

I’ve successfully avoided failure a lot in my life, because I’ve quit instead. (That feels like I deserve a pat on the back, but I think that’s wrong).

Quitting is easy. All that guilt and struggle? Gone!

The disappointing feelings of failure? They are nowhere to be seen, cause guess what, I stopped trying. I stopped thinking about it. My mind is clear of failure.

Isn’t it annoying when you realize things about yourself, that you’d rather not acknowledge?

Quitting due to the possibility of failure has been a strong motivation for me. Lots of the things I was “supposed to do,” like get good grades, came easy to me. If something truly challenged me, it was much easier to quit and instead do something I didn’t have to work so hard at.

I wonder how many amazing experiences I’ve missed out on because I wanted that comfy feeling of failure-free success.

I hate failure. Quitting silences my inner mean girl for awhile. As I’m sure you’ve seen, she’s annoying. Not trying is just easier, at least in the short-term.

Apparently, I’ve read, some people thrive on failure. But I’m no Thomas Edison, saying things like, “I have not failed 10,000 times—I’ve successfully found 10,000 ways that will not work.”

My life quote would be more like, “I failed once, so I quit.” Really inspiring. Feel free to use that as your phone wallpaper so you can have a pointless life.

Since I’m being honest here, I didn’t even make it a day using my phone intentionally. [*cringe*]

But, and the buts matter.

(No kids, I was not just making a joke for you to run amuck with.)

I did better.

There were times that, I would have zombied into my phone and I didn’t. [*small pattering of applause, please*]

That’s, I say it with unease, progress.

When you are working towards something hard, failure’s a good thing. I’ll have to say that again, a thousand times a day before the end of this year. Hold on, let me write it down so I can remember it and try to believe it.

Failure is necessary. [*snarl from the inner mean girl*]

So is every single little win.

I’ve understood that concept for most of my life. I mean, I spent years studying psychology and how we learn. They even gave me some little piece of paper, after I paid lots of money, that said I was a “master” at it. But all my book-y knowledge with my fancy piece of paper didn’t change what I really believed most of the time. Who am I kidding, it didn’t change what I *believe* most of the time.

I believe [*just being honest, I still struggle with it*] failure says something about me as a person.

Hello Carol Dweck, can you come give me one of your lectures and then slap me in the face so maybe it will sink in?

Maybe the best equation for growth is, failure plus a teeny-tiny bit of progress equals growth. It’s probably a true equation, but it sounds tedious and lackluster.

I’m really good at applying this concept to everyone, except for myself.

Anyone else better at preaching than living those gospel truths? [*looking for raised hands*]

No? Just me. Well, I’m really good at that. Someone should give me a piece of paper that says I’m a “master” at that. It’d probably be more accurate. I didn’t even have to pay money to earn that level of expertise.

When I’m training horses with my kids, I always tell them, if we get just one thing down better, that’s a success. If we are just 1% better, we’re headed in the right direction. If you have mustangs, you might understand the necessity of this mindset.

I need to do a little self-preaching [*queue inner preacher*].

A little progress every day is better than a lot of progress one day and no progress after that.

You’ve probably heard that if you take a penny and double it every day for 30 days you’ll end up with over $5 million dollars. It sounds ridiculous. A penny? Really? It’s true. Google it. That’s what I had to do to remember the story.

Compounded effort works the same.

I just recently told my 10-year old this very thing. She’s working on perfecting the splits and was telling me how hard it was. I reminded her, if she went just a little farther every day, eventually she would conquer the perfect splits.

See what a good inspirational speaker I am, to everyone, except myself.

I was feeling dumpy after all the fails.

But I pulled up my boot straps and kept trying.

Shoot, I’ve failed so much, why don’t I make it harder? That makes logical sense, doesn’t it?

I got this idea.

I didn’t like it, but I thought I would try it anyway. That seems like a good life philosophy–try things you know you don’t like, after you’ve already failed at easier things. Put it on your phone wallpaper. You’re welcome.

Aghh… phones have even infiltrated my writing. They are such a central part of our lives now.

But back to the story. My idea was no technology for a day.

[*cue argument from the underground addict*]

“But what if I want to write?” I mentally panicked. Funny because I go days without writing.

Then I remembered people did write before computers were around. Good thing I got that good grade in high school history.

My no-tech day was a raging success!

No. You’re right. I’m lying. My magic pen failed me again.

This grand, idealistic goal, which when achieved I would be engulfed by a chorus of angels. Was another, failure.

At least if you are speaking from an absolute standpoint, as in, I used absolutely no electronics.

That I failed to do. Please hide your shock.

Perhaps in our life we are either defining failure wrong, or viewing failure inaccurately. Failure is simply one more step towards success. A vital one I might add. I think I’m working towards a genuine phone wall paper quote here.

No, I didn’t stay 100% off electronics, but I engaged in things I wouldn’t have if I wasn’t trying.

That’s a win.

I have to keep telling myself, even though I failed, I still made progress. Otherwise my inner mean girl will tear my soul to pieces. Does your mean girl do that too?

I woke up with doubts in the morning.

“Is this whole experiment stupid? Do I really want to give up the things on my list?” (I can answer that one, it’s a no.) “There’s a good reason I’ve held onto them so long. It’s so much easier.”

I left my phone inside. Because that’s the only way I have self-control apparently, if I completely remove the option from my life.

Sometimes removing the obstacle is the best path to success. (Quotable yet? I feel like I’m getting somewhere.)

Outside I fed the horses, I stopped to work with our wild one. Then I sat outside and watched the snow and the mountains. I walked with our Australian Shepard into the National Forest.

As I walked and observed, I was also re-energized. Nature does that to me. It’s my drug, my energy drink, my nirvana. *Smells like teen spirit* I just had to listen to that and plunge back into the 80’s and 90’s. RIP Kurt Cobain.

Total distraction. Did I mention I have an issue with that? Pull it back in.

I remembered why I wanted to go on this journey of letting go. I was reassured this is a journey I’m going to grow a lot or at least fail a lot. Wait. Are those the same thing?

Back to my nirvana. Time, unadulterated by outside influences, that is purifying and restful!

That’s a win.

Come on! Think like Thomas Edison-10,00 fails. I think I’m getting close. On this one, small, singular, life change I need to make.

“Shut up!” Oh sorry, inner mean girl again.

Another moment of enlightenment occurred in this failed mission.

Turns out, I’m boring.

Without the whole world sitting in my hand, I got bored. I didn’t know what to do with myself without glancing at my phone for no reason at all. That’s usually super exciting.

There was no email to check (all that spam is really important to clear out).

I had no temptation to hit the Facebook app–cause it wasn’t in my hand.

Instead, I had to think and be still.

Oof. I’m horrible at that.

It’s easy to think while I’m moving and doing, but being still makes me uncomfortable. Probably because I have to sit there, with just myself.

Usually I avoid that awkward moment by turning to my phone. It’s really nice. It doesn’t judge. Because it’s a FREAKING INANIMATE OBJECT!

Yeah, I don’t like that awkward silence with myself or the awkward conversations.

Without my phone [*cue sad melancholic music*] I didn’t get to pick it up, just to look at it, and realize, I needed it for absolutely nothing right then.

Maybe someone emailed, maybe someone texted, maybe someone liked me! I wouldn’t know for one, whole day. Well, not one whole day because I didn’t make it the whole day.

But really, these aren’t urgent matters.

Failed goals are just goals to fail at, again.

I’ve determined to stop being so pathetic with my best friend, I mean phone, for a long while now.

I’m nowhere close to where I want to be, but I realize I’ve made progress. Really small, minimal progress.

I failed a lot, obviously, because here I am. Writing. About what a failure I am.

But, an important peace to growth is figuring out everything you are doing wrong. It’s hard to change and sometimes it takes awhile, like years–just me? Okay.

Anyway, it takes awhile to figure out how to make it happen.

There are definitely some changes in my approach that I need to make.

Instead of days without technology, I’m going to set aside hours to take a break. I want to give myself time to get that quiet boredom and confront those uncomfortable feelings, even though I apparently don’t much like being alone with myself. Maybe it will make my internal relationships less awkward.

And, I’m changing my view of failure.

Again.

Yep, I’ve already tried this before as well. Failure means I’m trying. I’ll never be 100% perfect.  (Shhh, don’t tell my perfectionist alter ego). That’s okay. There is progress in failure, as minuscule and discrete as it is.

If I am trying then I’m headed in the right direction. It is going to entail heaps of failure along the way. And you know what? You can never measure where you would be if you had never tried, so there is a good chance progress is happening, that you just don’t see.

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Click here to read about how this journey began.