I experienced a lot of success early in life.
In the second grade, I was the youngest person to enter my school’s gifted and talented program.
I reached 6‘ 1“ by the sixth grade and excelled in athletics. For the most part, academics came easy, and I rarely had to study.
The semester after I graduated high school, I began dating a hometown beauty. We quickly fell in love and after living in different areas of the country for a decade, we settled down and raised two phenomenal young women.
In the interim, I launched a successful copywriting business that, after 15 years, allowed me to eventually enter lucrative corporate positions.
Life certainly had its ups and downs along the way, but it wasn’t until I turned 46 that I experienced failure on a foundational level.
I’d struggled with depression for decades, and instead of accepting my wife’s frequent pleas to seek professional help, I masked its symptoms with daily cannabis use.
Combined with constantly offloading my emotional states and making them her problem, she eventually had enough, and told me she wanted out.
In a whirlwind eight months, every aspect failed catastrophically. We separated and divorced, I moved 45 minutes away from my children and experienced living without them for the first time, entered a new relationship long before I was emotionally ready, was laid off from my job, re-entered a decimated professional writing market, had to start a new career from scratch, lost my apartment, moved back in with my ex, disconnected from the new relationship, and became so depressed and suicidal that I admitted myself to a three-day stint in a behavioral health center.
Gratefully, with an immense amount of self-work, I’ve been able to rebuild much of my life over the past couple of years. And during this transition, I’ve recognized that early life is a time of failure. And if we don’t experience it during these phases, it often strikes more devastating emotional blows as adults.
What’s more, because failure is considered a natural part of early life and we’re often expected to eventually “have it all figured out” when we’re older, we tend to attach deep shame to our foundational missteps later in life. Thus, we give these failures—and their related emotions—permission to define us as humans, shoulder their heavy burdens indefinitely, and label them as something to be avoided at all costs in the future.
After mindfully sitting with my immense recent failures, though, I recognize that it’s perfectly okay to allow them to change me—to burn away everything that no longer serves me as I enter my next chapters—but not to represent everything that I am.
In other words, I can use these experiences as valuable wisdom, while also compassionately letting go of the person I was before they manifested.
Here’s a daily meditation that I use to help me do just this, piece by piece and breath by breath.
The Alchemy of Failure: A 5-Minute Meditation on Releasing the Past & Embracing Earned Wisdom
Arriving in your body
Find a comfortable seated position, close your eyes, rest your hands loosely, and settle into place. Take three deep breaths, imagining pure white light entering your body with each inhale, and dark, heavy air exiting your body with each exhale.
When you’re finished, return your breathing to a natural, even cadence like a gentle tide moving in and out. Notice the weight of your body, its contact with the chair or bed, and the simple fact that you are here, right now, alive in this moment.
Say to yourself silently: “I am more than my history.”
Sitting in front of your fire
Visualize a fire in front of you. Not a destructive blaze, but a steady flame that burns away what no longer serves you.
As you breathe in, recall your recent failures (e.g., losses, moments of deep struggle) and the negative labels you allow them to attach. When you breathe out, picture yourself gently placing them all into the fire before you.
As they burn and crackle like dried wood, notice that they are not “you.” They are simply the “stuff” of a previous chapter. Witness the shame and grief transform into light and heat.
Continue breathing naturally, acknowledging what’s being released and letting the fire do its work.
Gathering wisdom from the ashes
As the embers form, notice what remains among the ashes.
The wisdom earned through struggle. The compassion born from pain. The humility of starting over. The courage required to seek help. The strength found in your vulnerability.
All of these are yours to keep.
With each inhale, imagine the golden light from the wisdom-embers entering your body. Feel it settling into your bones, your heart, and your mind.
Compassionately releasing
With deep compassion, acknowledge the ashes of your failures: “Thank you for getting me here. I now release you.”
Feel the honor in what was, without being defined by the fact that it is no longer.
Keep the lessons, without carrying the shame and grief.
Feel the lightness of no longer having to be the person who “has it all figured out.” You give yourself permission to fail, without carrying the identity of a “failure.”
Breathe in your authenticity. Settle into its warmth, just like the fading embers of the fire that’s cleansed you.
Returning home
When you’re ready, gently open your eyes, and feel yourself fully present in this moment, in this body, in this version of you that is still unfolding.
Repeat the three deep breaths from the beginning of your meditation, imagining pure white light entering your body with every inhale and dark, heavy air exiting with every exhale.
Your Emotional Alchemy Worksheet
In my experience, writing down my experiences during these meditations provides invaluable insights into how much I’ve grown, and cements the wisdom I’ve earned along the way.
Here’s a worksheet you can use alongside each meditation session to help you accomplish the same.
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