I’m no stranger to failing.
Not failure, that final state of having failed, but failing the process. Failing the perpetual act. You know, like breathing.
As some who read this blog might recall, I was originally intending to title my presence on the web the “Fail Better” blog after the oft-cited (some might say too often cited) Samuel Beckett quote because much of my life’s inner work has been learning to confront and recover from failing, to understand that failing isn’t a consequence to be feared nor an issue to be solved, but a natural result from living a life.
Not unrelated: I hadn’t realized until this morning how far behind I am on blogging, an activity that up until seven months ago, I was engaging in weekly. In fact, I’ve fallen behind in the basic maintenance of my online presence. My go-to account for such activity—Twitter—has been quiet and nearly inert.
For what’s worth, I’m still here.
The good news is that I’ve been drafting on my new (as yet untitled) novel. Now that I travel often for work, I’ve been relying on a combination of Microsoft 365 and Google Docs to get this drafting done. (I add that tidbit for my fellow wordsmiths; these SAAS-based word processing programs are very helpful when you’re moving around a bunch, even if it’s from computer to computer.)
I've also been catching upon up on my reading. By the by, Karen Russell's fantastic story 'Prospectors' redeems an otherwise lackluster (failing?) New Yorker fiction issue.
So yes. Back to it. Good to see you all again.