I’ve had one quote on my wall for over 30 years. It’s Theodore Roosevelt’s famous lines comparing the “critic” to the “doer.”
It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.
I’m not sure why I’ve treasured this quote over the years.
Perhaps it validates the many times I stumbled while attempting to do things I was ill-equipped to achieve. Or maybe it’s my internal response to all those critics who were quick to let me know what I should have done differently.
Now, at 79, I feel pretty darn good about the choices I made. Failure was my higher education to winning a few of my challenges, and I had great fun along the way.
So, with five grandsons who still listen to my advice from time to time, I say, “Give it a shot. I know you can do it.”
FIRE!