The gift of failure pdf free download

By mid, I had filled three huge tubs with notebooks, journals, and mounds of data. I had also done countless hours of new research.

I had to dig very deep and make the conscious choice to believe … to believe in myself and the possibility of living a different life. A lot of questioning, countless tears, and a huge collection of joyful moments later, believing has helped me see. I now see how owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing that we will ever do. I now see that cultivating a Wholehearted life is not like trying to reach a destination. I now see how gifts like courage, compassion, and connection only work when they are exercised.

Every day. For me, believing was seeing. I believed first, and only then I was able to see how we can truly change ourselves, our families, and our communities. We just have to find the courage to live and love with our whole hearts. It means cultivating the courage, compassion, and connection to wake up in the morning and think, No matter what gets done and how much is left undone, I am enough.

The Journey Wholehearted living is not a onetime choice. It is a process. What does it take to live and love from a place of worthiness? How do we embrace imperfection? How do we cultivate what we need and let go of the things that are holding us back? The answers to all of these questions are courage, compassion, and connection—the tools we need to work our way through our journey.

I just need to be a superhero to fight perfectionism, I understand. Courage, compassion, and connection seem like big, lofty ideals. But in reality, they are daily practices that, when exercised enough, become these incredible gifts in our lives.

And the good news is that our vulnerabilities are what force us to call upon these amazing tools. In this way, courage, compassion, and connection become gifts—the gifts of imperfection. I answer some of the most difficult questions of my career: What is love?

Can we love someone and betray them? Why does our constant need to fit in sabotage real belonging? Can we love the people in our lives, like our partners and children, more than we love ourselves? We encounter obstacles on every journey we make; the Wholehearted journey is no exception. Defining Moments This book is full of big-concept words such as love, belonging, and authenticity. And I think good definitions should be accessible and actionable.

When we dig down past the feel-good words and excavate the daily activities and experiences that put the heart in Wholehearted living, we can see how people define the concepts that drive their actions, beliefs, and emotions.

For example, when the research participants talked about a concept such as love, I was careful to define it as they experienced it. Sometimes that required developing new definitions like I actually did with love and many other words.

A good example of this is play. Play is an essential component to Wholehearted living, and when I researched the topic, I discovered the amazing work of Dr. Stuart Brown.

We need common language to help us create awareness and understanding, which is essential to Wholehearted living. You know the dig-deep button, right? In my blog post, I explained how I had decided not to fix my dig-deep button. It worked for a while, but I missed my button. I needed a tool to help me dig my way out. So, I turned back to my research to see if I could find a way to dig that was more consistent with Wholehearted living. Maybe there was something better than just sucking it up.

They just do it in a different way. They take action. One example happened just recently when I was lost in an Internet fog. Rather than working, I was just lulling myself into a haze by mindlessly playing on Facebook and piddling on the computer. It was neither relaxing nor productive—it was just a giant time and energy suck. I tried the new DIG Deep—get deliberate, inspired, and going.

If not, do something deliberately relaxing. Find something inspiring to do rather than something soul-sucking. Then, last but not least, get up and do it!

It was exactly what I needed. Rather, I prayerfully, intentionally, and thoughtfully did something restorative. Each guidepost has a DIG Deep section to help us start thinking about how we get deliberate and inspired about our choices, and how we take action.

I am, however, the first to explain how these topics work individually and together to cultivate Wholehearted living. There are so many cool things to study. I want out of this! Now I know why. It was what I needed—professionally and personally—to prepare for this work on Wholeheartedness. Never, ever. Compassion is something we all want, but are we willing to look at why boundary-setting and saying no is a critical component of compassion? Belonging is an essential component of Wholehearted living, but first we have to cultivate self-acceptance—why is this such a struggle?

Coming at this work with a full understanding of how the shame tapes and gremlins keep us feeling afraid and small allows me to do more than present great ideas; this perspective helps me share real strategies for changing our lives.

I only wish that during those desperate and defeated moments of my past, when I was knee-deep in shame research, I could have known what I know now. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable.

Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light. Practicing courage, compassion, and connection in our daily lives is how we cultivate worthiness. The key word is practice. You learn courage by couraging.

We invite compassion into our lives when we act compassionately toward ourselves and others, and we feel connected in our lives when we reach out and connect. Before I define these concepts and talk about how they work, I want to show you how they work together in real life—as practices. I was in the process of collecting data about Wholehearted parenting and schools at the time, so I was excited about the opportunity. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

The second I walked into the school auditorium, I felt this really strange vibe from the parents in the audience. They almost seemed agitated. I asked the principal about it, and she just shrugged her shoulders and walked away.

I chalked it up to my nerves and tried to let it go. I was sitting in the front row when the principal introduced me. This is always a very awkward experience for me. Well, this introduction was beyond anything I had ever experienced. Brown is here to transform our school and our lives! Well, the die had been cast. These parents were not receptive. Instead, I felt row after row of people glaring at me. One man, who was sitting right up front, had his arms folded across his chest and his teeth clenched so tightly that the veins in his neck were popping out.

It was more like a humph! It was so bad that the people next to him were visibly mortified by his behavior. They were still inexplicably unhappy with me, but he was making the entire evening unbearable for all of us. As an experienced teacher and group leader, I know how to handle these situations and am normally comfortable doing so.

When someone is being disruptive, you really only have two choices: ignore him or take a break so that you can privately confront him about his inappropriate behavior. I was so knocked off my game by this weird experience that I did the very worst thing possible: I tried to impress him.

I started talking louder and getting really animated. I quoted scary research statistics that would freak out any parent. I served up my authenticity for a big ole helping of You better listen to me or your kids are going to drop out of third grade and take up hitchhiking, drugs, and running with scissors. I just managed to freak out the other already- pissy parents. It was a disaster. Trying to co-opt or win over someone like that guy is always a mistake, because it means trading in your authenticity for approval.

You stop believing in your worthiness and start hustling for it. And, oh man, was I hustling. The second the talk ended, I grabbed my stuff and ran-walked to my car. As I was pulling out of the parking lot, my face was growing hotter. I felt small and my heart was racing. The shame storm was brewing. Why did I do that? First, I know my physical symptoms of shame—the dry mouth, time slowing down, tunnel vision, hot face, racing heart. I know that playing the painful slow-motion reel over and over in my head is a warning sign.

I also know that the very best thing to do when this is happening feels totally counterintuitive: Practice courage and reach out! We have to own our story and share it with someone who has earned the right to hear it, someone whom we can count on to respond with compassion.

We need courage, compassion, and connection. Shame hates it when we reach out and tell our story. Shame loves secrecy. The most dangerous thing to do after a shaming experience is hide or bury our story.

When we bury our story, the shame metastasizes. If we share our shame story with the wrong person, they can easily become one more piece of flying debris in an already dangerous storm. We want solid connection in a situation like this— something akin to a sturdy tree firmly planted in the ground. We definitely want to avoid the following: 1. The friend who hears the story and actually feels shame for you. She gasps and confirms how horrified you should be. Then there is awkward silence.

Then you have to make her feel better. The friend who needs you to be the pillar of worthiness and authenticity. What were you thinking? You rock. Everyone loves you. Listen to what happened to me one time! We need to honor our struggle by sharing it with someone who has earned the right to hear it.

I called my sister. Before , I was pretty vested in being the older, perfect aka uptight, better than, and judgmental sister. Ashley was amazing. She listened and responded with total compassion.

She had the courage to tap into her own struggles with worthiness so that she could genuinely connect to what I was experiencing. I hate that feeling! I felt totally exposed and completely loved and accepted at the same time which is the definition of compassion for me. Without telling me, the principal and PTO president had required the parents to attend my lecture.

They told the parents that I was coming to tell them why they needed to stop hovering. In other words, I was set up as a helicopter- parent mercenary. Not good. The irony is that I had no idea that was an issue, so I never even mentioned the topic. Courage Courage is a huge theme in my life. Everyone wants to be brave. After interviewing people about the truths of their lives—their strengths and struggles—I realized that courage is one of the most important qualities that Wholehearted people have in common.

And not just any kind of courage; I found that Wholeheartedness requires ordinary courage. In one of its earliest forms, the word courage had a very different definition than it does today. Heroics is often about putting our life on the line.

Ordinary courage is about putting our vulnerability on the line. We see it when people reach out for help, like I did with Ashley. I saw courage in my daughter, Ellen, when she called me from a slumber party at p. I got homesick. It was so hard.

I scooted her over and sat next to her. I suffered through a couple of really miserable sleepovers and slumber parties because I was too afraid to ask to go home.

Can I be brave again and ask for something else? Would you be willing to pick me up at bedtime? The kind we could all use more of. It does, however, minimize the joy when it does happen. It also creates a lot of isolation. I know you were excited about it. Parents were invited to attend a holiday music presentation put on by the kids.

You know the scene—twenty-five children singing with fifty-plus parents, grandparents, and siblings in the audience wielding thirty- nine video cameras. The parents were holding up cameras in the air and randomly snapping pictures while they scrambled to make sure that their kids knew they were there and on time. As it turns out, her mother was stuck in traffic and missed the performance. By the time her mother arrived, I was kneeling by the classroom door telling Charlie good-bye.

I stood up, took a deep breath, and tried to reason with the part of me that wanted to chase after the better-than-you eye-rolling mom and kick her perfectly punctual ass. Just then two more moms walked up to this now tearful mother and smiled.

I missed the last one. I completely forgot. It will be okay. The moms who stopped and shared their stories of imperfection and vulnerability were practicing courage. As these stories illustrate, courage has a ripple effect. Every time we choose courage, we make everyone around us a little better and the world a little braver.

And our world could stand to be a little kinder and braver. Compassion To prepare for writing my book on shame, I read everything I could find on compassion. Compassion practice is daring. It involves learning to relax and allow ourselves to move gently toward what scares us. If we take a closer look at the origin of the word compassion, much like we did with courage, we see why compassion is not typically our first response to suffering.

We protect ourselves by looking for someone or something to blame. Or sometimes we shield ourselves by turning to judgment or by immediately going into fix-it mode. It has to be this way. Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded.

Only when we know our own darkness well can we be present with the darkness of others. Compassion becomes real when we recognize our shared humanity. Boundaries and Compassion One of the greatest and least discussed barriers to compassion practice is the fear of setting boundaries and holding people accountable. I know it sounds strange, but I believe that understanding the connection between boundaries, accountability, acceptance, and compassion has made me a kinder person.

Before the breakdown, I was sweeter—judgmental, resentful, and angry on the inside —but sweeter on the outside. I have no idea what this combination looks like on the outside, but it feels pretty powerful on the inside. During the interviews, it blew my mind when I realized that many of the truly committed compassion practitioners were also the most boundary-conscious people in the study. Compassionate people are boundaried people. I was stunned. The better we are at accepting ourselves and others, the more compassionate we become.

This research has taught me that if we really want to practice compassion, we have to start by setting boundaries and holding people accountable for their behavior. In our personal, social, and political worlds, we do a lot of screaming and finger-pointing, but we rarely hold people accountable. How could we? How would our lives be different if there were less anger and more accountability? What would our work and home lives look like if we blamed less but had more respect for boundaries?

I was recently brought in to talk with a group of corporate leaders who were trying to manage a difficult reorganization in their company. One of the project managers told me that, after listening to me talk about the dangers of using shame as a management tool, he was worried that he shamed his team members.

He told me that when he gets really frustrated, he singles people out and criticizes their work in team meetings. I explain every single detail of the project, I check to make sure they understand, and they still do it their way. I feel backed into a corner and angry, so I take them down in front of their colleagues.

That becomes a big hassle. Shaming and blaming without accountability is toxic to couples, families, organizations, and communities. First, when we shame and blame, it moves the focus from the original behavior in question to our own behavior. By the time this boss is finished shaming and humiliating his employees in front of their colleagues, the only behavior in question is his.

We can confront someone about their behavior, or fire someone, or fail a student, or discipline a child without berating them or putting them down. We have to stay away from convincing ourselves that we hate someone or that they deserve to feel bad so that we can feel better about holding them accountable.

When we fail to set boundaries and hold people accountable, we feel used and mistreated. This is why we sometimes attack who they are, which is far more hurtful than addressing a behavior or a choice. Connection I define connection as the energy that exists between people when they feel seen, heard, and valued; when they can give and receive without judgment; and when they derive sustenance and strength from the relationship.

Ashley and I felt deeply connected after our experience. I know I was seen, heard, and valued. Even though it was scary, I was able to reach out for support and help.

And we both felt strengthened and fulfilled. I also love knowing that I can help you and that you trust me. As a matter of fact, we are wired for connection. From the time we are born, we need connection to thrive emotionally, physically, spiritually, and intellectually.

Today, we know that the need for connection is more than a feeling or a hunch. Neuroscience, to be exact. In his book Social Intelligence: The New Science of Human Relationships, Daniel Goleman explores how the latest findings in biology and neuroscience confirm that we are hardwired for connection and that our relationships shape our biology as well as our experiences.

The more strongly connected we are with someone emotionally, the greater the mutual force. Our innate need for connection makes the consequences of disconnection that much more real and dangerous. In fact, hyper-communication can mean we spend more time on Facebook than we do face-to-face with the people we care about. As we think about the definition of connection and how easy it is to mistake technology for connecting, we also need to consider letting go of the myth of self-sufficiency.

When we attach judgment to receiving help, we knowingly or unknowingly attach judgment to giving help. For years, I placed value on being the helper in my family.

I could help with a crisis or lend money or dispense advice. I was always happy to help others, but I would have never called my siblings to ask them for help, especially for support during a shame storm. At the time, I would have vehemently denied attaching judgment to my generous giving. But now, I understand how I derived self-worth from never needing help and always offering it. During the breakdown, I needed help.

I needed support and hand-holding and advice. Thank God! Turning to my younger brother and sisters completely shifted our family dynamics. I gained permission to fall apart and be imperfect, and they could share their strength and incredible wisdom with me. If connection is the energy that surges between people, we have to remember that those surges must travel in both directions.

The Wholehearted journey is not the path of least resistance. As I conducted my interviews, I realized that only one thing separated the men and women who felt a deep sense of love and belonging from the people who seem to be struggling for it. That one thing is the belief in their worthiness. When we can let go of what other people think and own our story, we gain access to our worthiness —the feeling that we are enough just as we are and that we are worthy of love and belonging.

Our sense of worthiness—that critically important piece that gives us access to love and belonging—lives inside of our story. The greatest challenge for most of us is believing that we are worthy now, right this minute. Not if. Not when. Right this minute. As is. In addition to letting go of the ifs and whens, another critical piece of owning our story and claiming our worthiness is cultivating a better understanding of love and belonging.

Oddly enough, we desperately need both but rarely talk about what they really are and how they work. Think about it. In this way, love is the mirror image of shame. Yet the only way to resolve shame is to talk about it. If you see a Google Drive link instead of source url, means that the file witch you will get after approval is just a summary of original book or the file has been already removed. Loved each and every part of this book.

I will definitely recommend this book to non fiction, psychology lovers. Your Rating:. Your Comment:. Any parent who pines for a saner, more informed approach to child-rearing—to say nothing of a sounder night's sleep—should read this book. A compassionate mother and dedicated educator, Jessica Lahey knows exactly, authentically, and authoritatively of what she speaks. With chapters on specific age groups middle schoolers and high schoolers and hot-button issues, such as household chores, homework, and friendships, any parent who needs assistance reining in the supermom tendencies will find sound advice here.

Library Journal. Back Contact Interviews Press Kit. Gift of Failure video FAQs. A compassionate mother and dedicated educator, Jessica Lahey knows exactly, authentically, and authoritatively of what she speaks.

With chapters on specific age groups middle schoolers and high schoolers and hot-button issues, such as household chores, homework, and friendships, any parent who needs assistance reining in the supermom tendencies will find sound advice here. Library Journal. Back Contact Interviews Press Kit. Buy at Amazon. Buy at ibooks.