F
Failure/Feedback to Fantasy
Failure/feedback
I’m big on experimentation as a therapeutic intervention. Some clients like it, some struggle with it. I think a lot of the struggles come with the sheer number of failures they experience when trying something new.
We all like to look competent. No matter what stage we are in our learning, we want to feel as though we’re a veteran rather than a rookie. Failure reminds us how far we still have to go. It reminds us that we guessed wrong, acted ineffectively, or just didn’t do what we hoped we would.
I’ve been a big proponent of seeing these moments as merely feedback rather than failure. Failure just seems so personal, shameful, or embarrassing. Something about the word just makes our heads hang low. I’m not sure if this is a cultural stigma thing or what. I just know that word tends to stop more people than it encourages.
So, I’m careful to outline what folx are looking for when they experiment. They’re to look for what they can learn from the experience, not what did or didn’t happen. Feedback, that’s what we get when we’re trying something new. That’s it, that’s all. Just feedback.
We can work with that, because feedback is how we learn. It’s how we develop new insights and create new hypotheses. I’d like to think we’d all be better if we could take that approach to life.
It’s not easy as that failure frame tends to hover. So, I often share the mantra “no failure, only feedback” with those who’ll listen and try.
See: experiment, data, curiosity, shame, perfectionism, growth.
Faith
You’d think this would be easy to describe, especially for someone who has a theological and psychological background. It’s not.
Is it belief in a certain set of tenets? Is it trust in a dogma or revelation? Is it a set of actions we perform in alignment with those beliefs or values or trusted ideas?
Is faith a confidence in something greater, some “it” beyond us, or even ourselves? Is it an act of courage or steadfast resolve?
I’d probably say our answers to each of these things help describe faith. I’d also say that there’s got to be something more as well.
Faith is used in cultural, religious, and psychological conversations. It’s a verb for some and a noun for most.
When someone tells me they have faith, I want to ask, “what does that mean?” Does that refer to a deity? If so, how do you operationalize your faith? What does your faith compel you to do? How does it make you a better person, better partner, friend, colleague? How does it impact the world around you for the better? How does it change you when you’re doing something wrong?
Otherwise, it’s just words. It’s just convenience and cultural capital. It’s a secret handshake to get into a club.
I guess that puts me firmly in the verb category. Faith is something you do, not something you profess. It’s how we’re guided to make our mark on small worlds we live within.
I used to tell my students I don’t care what you believe, what faith you profess, as long as it’s healthy for you and the people around you. Otherwise, we’re going to have some serious conversations.
So, maybe that’s what faith is to me. It’s relational; it seeks good things for all; it looks for potential rather than pitfalls, connection over separation. Faith is something that helps us simply do the next best thing wherever we are.
See: meaning, values, ethics, hope, community, identity.
Family systems
A way of thinking about the complexity of human relationships. It’s a school of thought, with diverse branches, ideas, philosophies, and treatments.
Like all schools of thought, your mileage may vary. We like to think of these theories as universally applicable rather than contextually significant. Much like reading your horoscope, we can all find something true and something to laugh about.
I appreciate family systems theory for how it describes our interactions and gives words to some of the things we do. However, I appreciate it not as an end, but as a starting point to understand myself and how I might become something better as I flail around trying to do the next best thing.
See: attachment, boundaries, enmeshment, fusion, differentiation, interdependence.
Fantasy
Fantasy is not always fantastical. It’s not just dream partners, erotic scenarios, or alternative worlds. It’s not just elves, dwarves, or the best sex ever (or the best sex ever with elves or dwarves).
Sometimes it’s just a simple “what if I did this instead of that?” Fantasy, as I’m talking about it here, is about rehearsal. It’s a rich imaginative life, a place where we can replay arguments, practice social conversations, or slip into stories that give us room to breathe.
There’s nothing wrong with all these imaginative spaces. Fantasy is where many of our best ideas are born and some of our sharpest critiques of the world take shape. Having a head in the clouds can be quite meaningful. It can help us navigate hard seasons and feel creatively grounded when we’re overwhelmed.
Like an airplane, fantasy helps us take off. And, like an airplane, it eventually needs to land and see where we are and what’s changed. Otherwise, we may fly over some of the most meaningful moments in life.
See: imagination, play, desire, avoidance, anxiety, stories.