Three years ago, I was sitting in the audience at an aerial showcase in Brooklyn when one of the performers handed me a slip of paper. It said:
Dare to fail, fail better.
I showed it to the friend sitting next to me, who seemed less than impressed.
“Fail?” her face seemed to say. “Again?!”
The note held no relevance to her and I imagine the same could be said of the other 100 people in the room. In New York City, it’s hard to find someone who is anything less than a runaway success even when you’re at the circus.
But to me, the note was a sign.
For months, I had been toying with the idea of taking a year off to travel. The only thing that was stopping me was that I did something like it once before and it turned out to be a miserable failure. The note seemed like divine intervention, but for the fact that I don’t believe in divinity.
Still, I acted. I hung that scrap of paper on my refrigerator and a week later I quit my job.
Fast forward two years. We all know now what a great decision that turned out to be. But, at the time, I had no idea if I was making a mistake or not. I just knew I had to try – even if it meant risking another huge failure. I acted again before I lost my nerve: I gave away my furniture and donated most of my clothes; I booked an around the world plane ticket; I started sharing my plans out loud.
The first step – quitting my job – was terrifying. I’d love to tell you that things got easier after that, but I can’t. Anyone who has watched their every last possession parade out the front door will agree that it inspires a certain amount of dread and doubt, even in the happiest circumstances. Announcing that I gave up an easy life for one full of the unknown was not a pleasant conversation to have with the people who only wanted the best for me. As my self-imposed departure date approached, things only seemed more difficult.
All the while I wondered, Did I make the right decision? Phrased another way, Did I take that note as a sign, when it was nothing more than a stage prop?
Long before I settled on answers to those questions myself, Fate stepped in and put me at ease. As you might imagine, she has quite a flair for the dramatic.
Several weeks after I received a note about failure, which also happened to be several weeks before I was to set off on my year-long trip, I found myself at another performance – this time a variety show in a fancy Manhattan ballroom. There was a lot going on that night: fire breathing, contortion, some really mediocre modern dance… all served up with a family style dinner. One would argue that the last thing the show needed was a member of the audience to join the cast on stage and waste 7 minutes playing a parlor game about keys. But that’s exactly what the emcee wanted and, by pure happenstance, he decided I would be the one to assist him.
I don’t remember how the game went. It wasn’t important at the time and it still isn’t. The interesting bit happened later, near the show’s finale when one of the performers again plucked me from my seat walked me behind the stage. She handed me a piece of paper and threw a handful of confetti over my head, just as a load of glitter fell from the ceiling.
I opened the note. It said: Thank you for saying yes.
I would have taken that note as a sign all on its own. But with the music and confetti and stage lighting, I couldn’t help but think it was the work of something bigger, like Fate herself was congratulating me for taking her up on a dare.
The practical side of me understands why people might roll their eyes at all this. A note is a note and if the note said something like, “Go jump off a bridge,” I would have thrown it away.
“That’s a good story,” a lot of people say. “But I think you’re reading into it.”
Maybe I am. Or maybe I’m a person who believes that two notes and a confetti drop add up to more than one coincidence. Maybe I’m a person who appreciates the peculiarity of being singled out at a couple of performances as something more than pure happenstance. Maybe I’m the kind of person who doesn’t have to understand every last detail in order to believe.
Maybe you’d feel the same if it happened to you.
I don’t take offense to the people who don’t believe in Fate. I’m nothing if not rational too. I subscribe to the concepts of free will, hard work, and personal motivation just as much as the next person. I agree with these people when they point out that my decision turned out well not because it was destined to be, but because of the efforts I made both before and after to make it a success.
I know that we are all the product of our own choices. But I also know that living boldly takes courage and, more often than not, it’s easier to ignore the call than follow it. In those cases, I believe Fate grants us clues to ease our journey and settle our nerves. I see nothing irrational about watching for those signs. I’m living proof that there is nothing silly about acting on them either.
Try it. You’ll thank yourself for saying yes later.
***
As Fate would have it, one of my fellow bloggers wrote a post this week about the same topic. Check out her take: Awkwardly Alive & Pleasantly Peculiar.
Oh my goodness, yes!!! I adore this and you and all of the things bringing us together on the Internet.
Yes, our success is due to our own efforts, but I do think that without those little nudges from God or the Universe or whatever you want to call it, we wouldn’t have rolled up our sleeves and made the decision to go for it, right?
You are amazing. Thank you so much for the shout-out!
agreed. There are people who believe that it’s all about hard work and sweaty hands, and people who also believe in serendipity. Right place, right time, right note.
I’ve had a few of those serendipitous moments, and never regretted any of them. It’s when your gut says, “GO” and you say, “wait, I have to wash my hair first…” and you realize it’s a missed chance, forever.
That, and the willingness to work through the delays, missed connections, bad maps, and changes of plans with a certain amount of patience.
Very cool.
I expect nothing less from you! xx
Great story! Paying attention to omens; I get it. Question: how would you define the Fate you believe in?
Cheers!
Josh
Thanks, Josh! “Spiritual but not religious.”
Yeeee, I adored this and got all giddy because that there was magic at work! (With a crap ton of sweat and grind thrown in for good measure).
that is a perfect summary ;) part of me wishes it was as easy as magic all the time… but I probably wouldn’t appreciate that half as much. I haven’t started your book yet but it’s next on the list. I’ll send you a kindle selfie when I do! Honor system and all that.