Failure sounds and feels like defeat and disappointment. Something that we didn’t want to happen happened. Yet, its value lies in how we respond to it.

I attended a concert where the singer kept strumming but stopped singing just before the third verse of his current number-one hit song. He confessed that he’d forgotten the lyrics and asked us to sing along if we knew them. It sounded like everyone in that crowded venue sang. We jogged the singer’s memory, and he joined in.

I didn’t think that much about it at the time. Looking back, I recognize how easily vulnerability came to the man performing in front of thousands of strangers. And how unhesitatingly he asked for help. And how his resilience propelled him to complete his setlist.

We see resilience displayed when the quarterback’s pass hits the ground. Without missing a beat, he executes the next play. It’s the same for the pitcher who just had a homerun hit off him. He immediately looks for a signal from the catcher to hurl the ball at the next batter. They and the singer have the habit of putting behind them what they failed to achieve and regulating any emotions that conflict with their purpose.

Later, with humility and candor, they will cull through each step in the videos to ascertain what went wrong. This discovery exercise provides dynamic feedback from watching the ball’s trajectory, the player’s stance, and the chord played. It makes reengineering a blueprint for future successes possible.

These proven habits are not limited to athletes or singers. We can adopt this growth mindset with enthusiasm and determination. We can optimize the learning bandwidth of failure, confident that minor tweaks and significant adjustments support potential successes.

The only genuinely wrong thing with failing is refusing to persevere and use it as a springboard for improvement.