Failure as Redirection

(air whooshes) (mouse clicks) (upbeat music) Headspace Studios. (upbeat music) (gentle music) Hey friends, it's Rosie. Welcome back to "Radio Headspace". So I'm gonna tell you something I've never said out loud. When I was younger, I secretly wrote poetry. Now, to give you some context, I come from a family of musicians, artists, and writers. My dad, he's a mariachi singer, a very gifted and talented one. My older sister, she's an English teacher, and a beautiful creative writer. Most of my family members play an instrument. Art was always in the air in our apartment via music, film, stories, little bursts of creativity everywhere. But me, I didn't think of myself as a real creative. And it took many years, like 40, for me to finally consider myself a writer. But when I was in my teens, I wrote in secret, late at night, scribbling words into notebooks, working out feelings I didn't know how to name. And eventually, I decided to be brave. I started mailing in my poems to writing competitions. I did it under an alias, of course, because God forbid anyone found out it was me. Most of the time, I never got a response until one day. I got an envelope back with the publishing magazine's name, and I tore it open, my heart racing, hoping for a yes or that at least something encouraging. Instead, it said, "Before you write poetry, try reading some." I've never wanted to disappear more than at that moment. I stuffed the letter in a drawer and thought, "Maybe they're right. Maybe I don't belong here. Maybe I'll never belong." That's the thing about rejection. It doesn't just sing in the moment. It echoes throughout and it stays with you. It becomes this little voice in your head that says, "Why even try?" But here's what I know now, that rejection, it wasn't the end. It was just part of what I like to call the failure threshold. See, everything worth doing comes with a certain number of failures attached to it. You can't skip them, you can't cheat the system. You have to pass through them to get to the other side. And while I never went to become a poet, I did keep writing a lot. Journals, essays, daily pages, and eventually three books, thousands of words that will never see the light of day. But they mattered, they shaped me, they made me a writer. (gentle music) And yes, my critic was technically right, "If you wanna write, you must read." And I read poetry, so much poetry, Neruda, Plath, Rumi, Ginsberg. I learned to love the art form deeply. But I also realized I don't need to be a poet, I just love consuming it. What I really love to write is the kind of creative, non-fiction reflection and teaching that feels like soul food to me. And that's the gift of failing and rejection, right? It refines you. It points you toward what's yours....