The antithesis of success.
For some, it is "not an option." For others, an extreme description of a hiccup or wrench in the works.
Failure is occasionally regarded as a sign of weakness, incompetence, or a lack of drive, passion, or a positive attitude. Not twelve hours prior to seeing the commercial below for the first time, I was just talking about failure with a friend of mine. As any good friend would, she assured me I wasn't a failure, nor had failed, but I diffused the situation's potential for an emotional dip by approaching it with an objective eye.
Failure doesn't imply I executed incorrect actions, at least to me. Failure means to acknowledge the actual results in closed-loop event were in gross contrast to the preferred result. In simpler terms, it didn't turn out the way you wanted it to, and an opportunity to start over, or even begin something new, is presented.
And that's ok.
Last night I was watching Game of Arms (specifically S1, Ep5, Welcome to the Slaughterhouse). Yes, the show on AMC about arm wrestling, not the often trending Game of Thrones. Before the match they focus on Mike Selearis of the NY Arms Control Team. Some would call him cocky and arrogant, others would cheer on his self-confidence and constant self-assuring. One cocky guy isn't anything new, especially in a testosterone-saturated show like Game of Arms. But what stuck out was his Ricky Bobby-like parenting.
A high school teacher, husband, and father of two, he instills the spirit of a winner in his two children. Cheers echo through the house as he and his two kids take turns proclaiming, "I'm a winner! I'm a winner!" For many, this is a good thing, instilling a positive attitude and a desire to be the best. But the wife shares a reality check with the camera when she says there's one problem with all the winner conditioning: dealing with losing.
No one's keeping score for you. They just notice what you do in between possessions.