Have you ever felt like the world is a burden you are honored to bear upon your shoulders in full? Has it ever seemed like you are the genius just waiting to be discovered? Who will save a billion lives through your ingenuity? Who will touch a thousand hearts with your wisdom and boundless love? Have you ever felt that every failure, every road block is a disappointment to the expectant world? That you are failing people and potential with every misstep and every hesitation?

      Welcome to my world, dear readers, this is what I combat every single waking moment. We can put  it into a simpler format here: Hubris.

      I use Hubris here because the word tends to encompass a little more than Pride does to modern ears. Hubris is the embodiment of things we call the Hero Complex, the Savior Complex, or the God Complex. To a degree, everyone of us struggle with some hubris in our lives, but, I'm bringing this up now, because, even though I've always 'known' I had a problem with  this, quite recently I was made to realize just how much it had taken a grip on my life due to my absolute horror and repugnance for failure, specifically in myself.

       Enter no. 1: guy who wants a relationship with me when I know it won't work. I see a vision of my kindly pointing the way, like a welcoming light in the tempest. I will help my friend see that I am not the right one for him, but we will part cordially and remain friends for the rest of our lives.

      Here's what actually happened. He felt hurt, misunderstood, and unfairly treated. I wound up sobbing myself to sleep on my bedroom floor because I felt like I'd made a muck of things. The next morning, I was told repeatedly that such things happen, I couldn't put the blame entirely on myself, that he would be okay and I could move on from this a wiser individual. All true, and yet, why do I still feel that all the fault is mine? Why do I worry that I will never get married because I'm horrible at relationships?

     Enter no. 2: November writer's challenge, NaNoWriMo, in which I write 50,000 words over the course of a month. I can just see it. Each day I write a little more than the minimum word count. I finish two days ahead to the envy and admiration of all my writing buddies. I write a novel that's ready to publish after the second revision.

    Here's what actually happened. I fell behind on the fourth day, I still haven't caught up, I fear that maybe with all the things going on, I might not catch up in time. And to top it all off, I know this story will need at least ten revisions before I get even remotely pleased with it. Everybody tells me I'm doing great. I've gotten farther on this story than I've ever gotten before, and, considering that the first year I tried this in 2014 and quit on day four with a grand total of 125 words, with my word count at nearly 22,000 now, I'm doing great. And of course it will need revisions, that's the best part of writing a novel. All true, and yet, why do I feel like a colossal failure? Why do I question whether I will ever publish a book?

      Enter no. 3: Opera which I have been working for quite some time which I am basing off of book one of Edmund Spenser's Faerie Queene. I plan to finish the libretto by the end of Summer 2018, and to have piano reductions of the most of the major arias scored by the end of the year. I can see it coming off grandly, and becoming wildly popular for it's unusually sensible theme and inspiring message.

     Here's what actually happened. I'm still only two thirds of the way through crafting the libretto, and I'm still rewriting parts of it that I'm not completely happy with. As for the music, so far, I've only gotten a few melodies on paper, and feel greatly my incompetency when it comes to writing down the harmonies I can hear in my head. Considering I've never written more than a string quartet in terms of multi-instrumental work, people tell me I'm doing just fine. Besides, Operas can take years to write, and that's perfectly all right. All true, and yet, why do I feel like I'm a horrible musician who's just playing at something he's not good enough to take seriously? Why do I fear that my dreams of becoming a composer will never be realized?

  
     The list could go on. My voice isn't where I want it to be. I'm a violin teacher and yet I still often struggle with some of the most basic techniques, I have worked so hard at learning fiddle style but still struggling just to not sound like a Classical musician. I've been trying so hard to get up a regular exercise routine but keep missing days due to lack of motivation on my part. I try to keep practicing my sight singing, but after one very demotivating rejection, practice has been less than regular.

    Where am I going with all this complaining? (If you're a first time reader, please don't think I complain like this on every blog post...or do I)     ;)


      I hope for one thing it encourages anyone out there whose felt like everyone has his life together except for him, that that is certainly not the case.

      For the second, all this was, like any good story, helping the reader understand the sheer need I've been having for a willingness to accept failures as part of life. Not to settle with failure, no, but to be okay with them happening.

     Recently, a writer who's list I managed to get subscribed to, sent out an email detailing a struggle in a very similar situation.
      His light bulb moment became mine. You see, what if God's plan is for me to fail ten-thousand ways before I conquer? What if all the imperfections in my life are building up towards one grand perfection?

       What if failing multiple times is what's going to make my Opera so meaningful, my novel so impactful, and my relationships so much more loving? What if in the course of these failures, I'm not actually falling back down the mountain, but taking one painful step closer to the sparkling goal?

        Someday, I am certain, all these failures and all these flaws will bring forth something beautiful, wrought of sweat, tears, and missteps, and if that something wonderful goes on to impact ten people for good, it will be worth it.

        Thomas Edison failed hundreds of times through the course of years it took him to successfully craft the light-bulb which would go on to light the homes all over the entire globe.  Simply trying to thread the carbonized filament into the light-bulb without it breaking failed at least fifty times.

      Surely I can't give up after far less than that. I know this opera is something I have to write if it takes me a lifetime. And if it doesn't come to fruition until I'm hoary haired, that will be okay.

      You know, I've realized that a Lifetime of Failures is not at all the same thing as a Failed Lifetime. I can have a lifetime of 'successes' and still ultimately fail, because I gave up too easily. Because I couldn't take the failure.


       So, there we have it, my enduring readers. If you read all the way through that, you have my everlasting respect and heartfelt gratitude. What about you? What are your failings that God is calling you to push through? How can I pray for you as you wade through all those missteps and imperfections?

      I'll leave you now with a song of thanksgiving in honor of, well, Thanksgiving Day, of course. Don't you just hate the way people skip right over Thanksgiving in the mad dash for Christmas? It's such an important Holiday and half the people in North Carolina already have their Christmas tree up. Anyway, I shan't do that, so I'll end this litany of failures with a song of thanks for one of God's most precious gifts to man, in my opinion. Music.

     Don't groan, what did you think it was going to be? Mickey Mouse....I don't think so.

Anyway, this song by my favorite modern composer, John Rutter, is absolutely stunning both in its beauty and its profundity. I'm including the lyrics below, so you can understand what is being sung.



        

Happy Thanksgiving!

    ~ Christianna