If Failure Took a Vacation

What’s something you would attempt if you were guaranteed not to fail.

If failure packed its bags and left for a long vacation, I’d probably start with something grand—like opening a cozy little café by the beach that serves both cappuccinos and conversations. I’d call it “Brewed Ideas.” People would come for coffee but stay for life advice I never planned to give.

With failure off the guest list, I’d finally learn the guitar without worrying about my fingers sounding like a broken alarm clock. I’d publish a book titled “Notes from the Land of Almosts,” where every unfinished dream finds its ending. And maybe, just maybe, I’d try bungee jumping—though knowing me, I’d ask the instructor a hundred questions first, just to make sure the rope isn’t on a tea break.

But here’s the twist: would life be as thrilling without the possibility of failing? Isn’t failure that spicy ingredient that makes the success soup taste richer? After all, as someone once said, “A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor.”

If I were guaranteed not to fail, I might achieve everything—but would I still feel the rush of trying? The laughter after falling? The pride in rising again? Success without struggle is like coffee without aroma—technically correct, but emotionally empty.

So maybe I’d still let failure peek from behind the curtain, just to keep me real, humble, and hungry.