Imagine walking on a rocky, uneven trail in the mountains for the first time, looking up at a bright blue sky, interrupted now and then by wisps of cirrus clouds and the dark silhouettes of needle-pronged pine trees. Sooner or later, you trip and fall, scraping your knees and palms, cursing your carelessness. Unbeknownst to your conscious mind, you also stop looking up when walking on such trails because that action is now tied to the pain and embarrassment of falling
But what happens when the pain isn’t physical? Imagine devoting yourself to a creative pursuit, sharing it with the world, and hearing nothing in return.
No applause, no ovations, not even a nod of approval.
You (your ideas and your work) were rejected.
There’s no visible wound, only that unease in your stomach. The pain is psychological, but real. And, just like with physical pain, your mind begins shaping an adaptation to prevent you from returning to that pursuit.
Here’s where things get tricky. When the cause of failure is a chain of complex events, and the pain can’t be traced to one clear mistake, the entire activity can be misattributed to the pain. Following our hardwired survival patterns, the mind builds a roadblock, not against the mistake, but against the activity itself.
What’s needed to learn and grow then is deliberate review: break down the chain of events, isolate the true cause of failure, and link the pain to that point alone. Once identified, you either eliminate that cause or improve it so it no longer leads to the same outcome.
That’s where learning happens. Not in the failure itself, but in the conscious dissection of what actually caused it.