Alright people, it's 23:01, I'm up writing a blog that I should have written at 05:00 but I didn't. I almost went to sleep without writing it. In fact I was just winding down and thinking about how tomorrow will unfold when I thought sh*t blog! So here it is folks, my 76th working day of the year, Family Day according to the South African calendar so to say.
Have you ever noticed how we've collectively decided to treat mistakes like they're the apocalypse? Like somehow fumbling through life warrants a dramatic score and a slow-motion replay of our embarrassment? Rubbish, I say. Complete and utter rubbish.
I've been thinking lately (dangerous pastime, I know) about this whole concept of mistakes. The word itself feels laden with judgment, doesn't it? Mis-take. As if life were a perfectly choreographed film and you've gone and botched your line, wasting everyone's time and the director's patience.
But hang on a minute, what if we're not making mistakes at all? What if they're just... missed takes?
The Semantics of Screwing Up (Because Words Matter, Apparently)
There's something liberating about reframing our failures as missed takes rather than mistakes. One implies permanent damage; the other suggests another opportunity is just around the corner. "Cut! Let's go again from the top."
As Ecclesiastes 11:6 reminds us: "Sow your seed in the morning, and at evening let your hands not be idle, for you do not know which will succeed, whether this or that, or whether both will do equally well." (NIV)
The biblical writer didn't say "sow once and if it doesn't work give up and watch Netflix instead." No, the assumption is that multiple attempts are part of the process.
The 50% Advantage (A Statistic I Didn't Make Up, Promise)
This notion that trying increases our chances by 50% is fascinating, innit? While the mathematicians among us might quibble with the precise percentage (and rightfully so, where's my evidence?), the fundamental truth remains: attempting something gives you infinitely better odds than attempting nothing.
In her distressingly popular book "Mindset," Carol Dweck bangs on about the difference between fixed and growth mindsets. Those with growth mindsets see failures not as evidence of unchangeable deficits but as opportunities for growth. Proper groundbreaking stuff, that.
But here's what Dweck doesn't tell you (or maybe she does I skimmed parts, if I'm honest): the growth doesn't happen from the attempt itself but from the reflection that follows the missed take.
Historical Missed Takes (Because I Read Things, You Know)
History is absolutely littered with magnificent missed takes that led to greatness.
Take Thomas Edison, who allegedly said of his numerous failed attempts to invent the light bulb: "I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work." Now, whether he actually said this is beside the point (and historians would likely tell me it's apocryphal), but the sentiment is spot on. Each missed take brought him closer to the eventual breakthrough.
Or consider the biblical narrative of David. Before becoming Israel's greatest king, he spent years on the run from Saul, hiding in caves, pretending to be mad, and generally having a thoroughly rubbish time of it. As Psalm 34:19 tells us: "The righteous person may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all." (NIV)
David's story wasn't one of uninterrupted glory; it was a series of missed takes that shaped him into the leader he would become.
The Science of Missing (Because Scientific Credibility Is Apparently Important)
According to research from the University of California (which I definitely didn't just make up again. Thing is I've been told I make up studies a slot in my blogs, I'm like Ai people Ai), our brains actually form stronger neural connections after making and correcting errors than they do when we get things right the first time.
The struggle, the recalibration, the "oh bollocks that didn't work" moment these are precisely what cement learning in our minds.
It's like when you're trying to find someone's house without Google Maps (there's people who still do this, bolt drivers even. Bolt Driver: Sorry where are you going? Me: 🙄). You'll remember the route much better if you get lost first and have to figure your way back than if you'd sailed through without a wrong turn.
The Fear of Missing Out on Missing (A Bit Paradoxical, But Go with It)
What's truly tragic isn't missing the mark; it's never taking aim in the first place.
I was chatting with my mate Jeremy last week (not his real name, because I respect privacy, he did not sign my POPI consent form and definitely not because I've invented him for literary purposes). He's been talking about starting his own business for roughly 7 years now. Perfect plans, detailed spreadsheets, comprehensive risk assessments, the works.
Number of businesses actually started? Zero.
Number of missed takes from which to learn? Also zero.
As Proverbs 26:13 warns us: "The sluggard says, 'There is a lion in the road, a fierce lion roaming the streets!'" (NIV) There's always a reason not to try, isn't there? Always a lion in the road.
From Missed Takes to Masterpieces (Getting a Bit Dramatic Now)
The path from incompetence to mastery isn't a straight line; it's a scribble. A chaotic, messy, beautiful scribble punctuated by countless missed takes.
Think about any skill you've mastered. Driving, perhaps? Remember those first terrifying lessons? The kangaroo hops when finding the biting point? The minor heart attacks your instructor suffered as you approached roundabouts? Each of those moments wasn't a mistake it was a missed take on your way to becoming the excellent driver you undoubtedly are today.
Or cooking! My first attempt at pap resembled something closer to cement than food. But after numerous missed takes (and several takeaways), I've now reached the lofty heights of "very edible."
The Final Act (Or Just My Random Thoughts at Whatever Time It Is)
So here's what I'm proposing: let's collectively agree to strike the word "mistake" from our vocabulary. Let's replace it with "missed take" and see what happens.
When you send that email with an embarrassing typo? "Brilliant missed take! I'll be more careful next time."
When you attempt a new recipe and set off the smoke alarm? "Fantastic missed take! Now I know that 'simmer' doesn't mean 'incinerate'."
When you pour your heart out to someone who doesn't feel the same? "What a wonderfully brave missed take! Next time you won't be gullible enough to mistaken lust for love" (bit harsh that, sorry).
Is this just semantic gymnastics? Perhaps. Will it magically solve all your problems? Absolutely not. But might it give you the courage to try again, to shoot another take, to keep moving forward? I reckon it might.
Because as Matthew 7:7 tells us: "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you." (NIV) Notice it doesn't say "ask once" or "seek briefly" or "give the door a gentle tap and then run away." The implication is persistence multiple takes until you get it right.
(Laptop battery at 3%... another missed take in charging it properly. Perhaps I should start a support group. Or write a bestseller. "The Art of Perpetually Low Battery Life: How I Built an Empire on 3% Power." Mhm...actually, that's not bad...)
Anyways it's 00:12, I should be up at 03:00 so go on. Make that missed take. Then make another. And another after that.
Because this is what we do NOW!
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