Dear Readers,
On dispiriting days, a considerate friend or family may have offered you reassurance, quoting the well-known proverb, “Failure is the mother of success.” However, it is admittedly hard to find immediate comfort in them, especially when drowning in self-doubt, and having been betrayed by the illusion of a hopeful future that seemed so tangible. To help us muster the warmth and energy to shovel through the snow of failures, the Capture the Failure Moments exhibition held during Failure Week poured out the small and large setbacks that most of us would meet during our university years. A scrupulously written lab report crumpled in frustration, a hopelessly withered plant, an error-filled coding assignment — the photos on display serve to remind us that we are never alone.
Having found shelter from the rapidly plummeting temperatures outside, gradually immersing myself in the ambient cafe music, I start typing up my own failures.
During my second semester, I rather naively applied to be an undergraduate student researcher at a lab, fueled mostly by interest, but oblivious of the full responsibilities it would entail. I was still fortunate enough to be accepted; however, it was not long before I started to fall short. While my senior labmates gathered tirelessly several times a day to present their progress at meetings and discuss research directions, I could barely grapple with the basic data analysis techniques that I was taught, and was constantly exhausted and discouraged to partake in any social outings. Underperforming in both my courses and lab work at that time, afraid to inconvenience my lab members further, I parted with them and the research that I wanted to learn from only after a few months, after a long thought.
“Your abilities and effort were never lacking; all you needed was more time.” When I released my emotions in the comforting arms of my professor, her words that softly resonated were the very words that I had brushed aside and never cared to tell myself. Overusing the excuse that I had no time nor emotional energy to spare, I passively ran around a loop of resenting my mistakes, silently burying any doubts of inadequacy, hastily stepping onto the next impending task and losing morale after being punched with more mistakes along the way.
After the experience, I took a step back from impulsively chasing every longed-for opportunity, reminded myself to cherish and be content with the few most meaningful experiences, and slowly but firmly identify the core of my mistakes, while giving more right to my emotions in the journey.
Whether our failures hit us like an intense cramp or a dull muscle ache, let us calmly locate the pain and gently massage the sore areas away. Like the forgiving and understanding embrace of the autumn mountains, let us forgive our fatigued and failure-filled selves and give the words of encouragement we so desperately need — for not every trip or fall ends with irreparable injury and lost hope.
Speaking of finding solace in the ordeals of life and dealing with more unfathomable depths of grief, we would like to share with you a timely review of a memoir — this time, written by a fellow reader of The KAIST Herald. A “cathartic, sincere, and uncalculated recounting of personal, mundane and traumatic scenes”, we believe that this read and the “overwhelming, raw emotions that marinate each chapter” will help you find your own solace in the last few days of autumn.