Why is it for many of us, no matter how many achievements and successes we enjoy in our lives, and in spite of all the praise and accolades received, we will sometimes pick up a banner marked with the words FAILURE, drape it across our chest and go about donning the sour smiles of lost beauty queens and race car drivers and all losers in general?

As we frolic in the recalling of jobs we didn’t get, deadlines unmet, mistakes with our kids, embarrassing public displays or the soufflés that fell flat, we seem to lose our grasp on the ecstasy of those moments when our accomplishments fulfilled dreams desired, and instead replace it with a discontent sour soul chanting words like, “Could have done better. Should have been better. Never quite good enough.”

Type A personality? Maybe

Perfectionism? Probably

So what if, when the those haunting thoughts commence their intrusion, we open the door and invite them in for a bit of revelry and a cup of tea,

then politely shake hands thanking them for what they have taught us,

then announce it’s time for them to leave.

I’m guessing they wouldn’t make the rounds quite so often because the distorted pay-off that is sometimes brought on with self flagellation will have lost it’s punch and the power of friendship always heals.

The magic of my ‘soul integration’ deepens when I welcome the wounds, regrets and mishaps of my past, understanding they are all necessary in the redemptive, molding and emerging thing that reflects I AM.

Perhaps next time I will dress my friend FAILURE up in a perky ball gown and take ‘er out for a drive.