Delicious Failure
by Anne Loucks
My girlfriend and I just started taking Salsa dancing classes. I have no previous experience, and so far, I am terrible. I can barely do the basic step. My partners' feet are frequently trod upon. I lose my balance when doing spins, fail to keep pace, and generally need a lot more practice. Also, I love it. Dancing is fun, after all. Some people might dislike trying something new, knowing that they will look foolish for a while. I, however, revel in such failures.
In a weird sort of way, it's nice when people expect me to screw up. Maybe the sensation is like being a child again, everything is new, even if it is just within one activity. At Salsa class, I can simply play without needing to get it right. This is what I love about all fresh experiences. I get to foul up over and over and over again, and everything is just fine.
At work, this would never be permitted. I might get to make a mistake from time to time, but would be fired if I failed repeatedly. Getting to screw up, means being free.
Every new activity is an adventure in failure. When I started martial arts, I moved too stiffly and acquired numerous bruises while learning to fall properly. Eventually, I got better. At rugby, I could not run well and lacked the basic animal viciousness my teammates had. With training, I learned to sprint and tackle like the rest of them. When I began roller derby, I could barely stay upright on those disturbing wheeled shoes. One of my shorter compatriots described me as "a giraffe on skates." She was probably being generous. Now, I can shoot around the track, go backwards, and dish out hits with lovely ferocity. Each failure becomes a triumph when I finally do it right.
Achieving these goals is wonderful and refreshing. Also, I get to meet scads of new and interesting people. I would be hard pressed to make friends with hairdressers, doctors, police officers, and horse trainers, to name a few. All of us leave our productive lives and get together to fail. We encourage each other. We work together, and even if it takes years, we triumph over new things.
Sometimes, the triumph never comes. I have given up occasionally. For instance, I will probably never be a painter or sculptor. These activities are difficult for me, and I have trouble mustering enthusiasm for them. I cannot bring myself to become a good bowler, as the sport feels too boring. In the end, I only have a limited time to participate in life, so I might as well choose recreational activities which are foreign and fun for me.
Salsa dancing is both. My instructor says I am doing well for just having had a few lessons, but I don't want to improve too quickly. Failing at stuff is a good time.
