Last week over coffee, my girlfriend Lauren in her true ADHD way said, “do you want to be on my podcast today?” You should know she spends an obscene amount of time preparing for every guest. But this week she was working on something special. She was asking entrepreneurs about their experiences to create a unique compilation episode filled with advice for creators. Mine included.
“I’m not giving you the questions in advance,” she said with a laugh before I could say anything else. She knows me. She knows I’ll try and prepare, even with 5 minutes notice. “You’ll be fine,” she said through the crack of the door as she closed it. 30 minutes later after her scheduled guest finished, I logged in. We jumped right into introductions, but then she asked me a question that stumped me in the way only good journalists can: “What’s something about your business that you don’t tell anybody?” After a long pause, I told her something I think most people would never guess about me.
I get rejected more than anyone. I post about the highlights - the podcast interviews or a speaking gig on LinkedIn, but not the rejection emails I get at least once a day for speaking gigs and projects. It turns out to get what I want and to be a paid speaker, I have to get knocked down a few hundred times on the way.
The rejection feels like relief. For the last year, I have been restless. After leaving a small presentation just up the road from my house in October, I remember saying to Lauren, “I wish I could speak every day. I’d be so happy.” That feeling stuck. So, I went all in on speaking over the last year with a big goal: one speaking gig per week (at least on the weeks I wanted to speak). When I mention this goal to most people, their eyes get really big with what I assume is surprise. It’s a big goal and there’s a very high likelihood I will fail. But that’s one shit sandwich I’m willing to eat.
The idea of a shit sandwich is not mine. It’s from Elizabeth Gilbert’s book Big Magic, a book I find myself coming back to every time I am in a creative rut. The idea is simple. Find something you really want to do. There’s good and bad to everything. If you’re willing to enjoy both the glory and the downsides? That’s the dream worth pursuing.
For most of my life, I never really saw any value in failure. Failure felt like an ending I wasn’t prepared for. Fate. A sign I wasn’t supposed to keep going. But I know something today that I didn’t know when I started the book for the first time several years ago. Something I have to remember as I get rejected every single day, sometimes twice a day.
Shit sandwiches aren’t signs. Rejection is inevitable. Failure just can’t have the power to slow you down when you figure out what’s worth failing at all the time.
