The Man In The Arena

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat." -Theodore Roosevelt

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When I first read these powerful words years ago, I could barely catch my breath. I thought of all the times I stood in certain “arenas” of life bloodied and exhausted while those around spewed shallow critiques from the safety of distant stands.

Now, I can’t help but see all of the arenas I was too much of a coward to enter. I stood at the gates while the critic within bullied me until I sulked away, tail between my legs. I pretended that protecting myself from failure was some sort of victorious consolation – it was not.

I am now ready to spend myself in every worthy cause, even the ones I fear the most. Of course, I hope for triumph and great achievement, but I’ll gratefully accept the sting of failure if I can honestly say that I gave it my all and dared greatly!

“… there is no effort without error and shortcoming”