Repeat after me:

I don’t think I know what I am doing. I only know what I think I’m doing. Yet, I must act. I must.

When I choose a course of action, the idea is not to avoid failure. I am going to fail regardless (because I do not know what I am doing). Rather, the idea is to choose the manner of my failure — its cause, its character, its consequence — to the best of my ability (bearing in mind, again, that my abilities are limited, given that I do not know what I am doing).

Given that I only know what I think I’m doing, and given that I am going to fail regardless, it is okay, midway down a path, for me to see certain obstacles ahead that I think I do not want to tackle — bearing in mind my strengths and weaknesses — and to say, “no, not this way,” and turn around.

It is okay because it is not a turning around to go home; it is okay because it is a turning around to take another path. I do not hide from failure when I turn away, do not aim to avoid all obstacles. I aim to avoid the obstacles that will injure me in a fall, in favor of the obstacles that will challenge me to climb. Whereas a failure met in a ditch puts mud in my mouth, failure met on a mountain-side affords me a spectacular new view.

I am not a shrinking violet, stunting my own growth. Rest assured, self, I will be revised — for I will fail regardless.