strangely satisfying bedfellow...

I've had an enduring and long-term relationship with failure, a mostly loyal, but strangely satisfying bedfellow. This is not a sad thing or even a self-deprecating thing, but, alas (I can justify a little melancholy), a truism that I can easily identify and analyze an overt arch of it at different points in my life. This recent discovery is so interesting to me as I guess any spark of self-knowledge previously unknown would be. Who would've thought failure would be a good thing? a cool thing even? As I even now tread water in an ever widening ocean of failure: first I'm bouyed by the few and far between victories that do happen and second I'd better be developing an ever toughening, ever-adapting constitution which is pretty important for survival and mastery. So I guess it is essential, failure that is, well at least for me. If I've mastered anything then I've mastered failure and if I've mastered it then there are no limits...