I Am Failing Every Day
Embracing the power of consistent failure
I am a failure.
Seriously.
I am failing Every. Single. Day. This is not a deeply held secret. I’m weirdly, proud of it.
I was brought up to hide any and all failures. To refrain from speaking of them in proper (or perhaps, improper) company.
For right now, though, I’m a failure.
And I’m ok announcing that.
In April, my husband bought me an Arbor Day gift (Arbor Day is always the 4th Friday in April. If it’s not on your calendar, it should be.)
I believe it’s the best holiday of the year. You celebrate trees. You can plant one or do something nice for the trees in your world. There are no specific foods attached to the day or defined traditions.
Usually, there are no gift-giving obligations, but I celebrate a little differently and believe in tree-inspired gifts, or at least gifts of some kind.
For Arbor Day 2023, my husband bought me a pull-up bar. Obviously, this was something I had broadly hinted about. While it really had no connection to Arbor Day, it was as good of an occasion as any to give it to me.
