Everyone has feelings of failure for various reasons. Only an Elder is really about one set of them. All the bloggernacle threads about being “old” and unmarried are another set. The common response give to those feelings is to rejoice.
I admit that this time of year, from December 26 through Valentines day I am haunted by my own feelings of failure. How can I look at myself in the mirror and not think of myself as a man who failed. One after another three of my daughters died and there was nothing I could do that made a difference. In my life otherwise, I’ve failed at gaining a real voice that matters in the large scheme of things. My earlier essay on being heard is really about how I failed to make the next level and how others can avoid failures like mine.
What do you do when you have feelings of failure, how do you overcome them, what matters to you in your life that you succeeded in, and what makes a difference? I know, I should finish the essay with a solution, but the solution I have is to ask our readers for their solutions instead.
Wheat & Tares 
One of the benefits of age is coming to realize that it really doesn’t matter that you will never be rich and famous.
Being grateful for what we have and being fully aware of each moment is compensation for something as elusive as success.
Rich men will always tell you that you literally fail your way to success.
My answer to this comes not from my LDS faith but from my studies in Buddhism. Anything external will ultimately lead to sorrow: either we will ultimately lose something we have (or worry about losing it) or will ultimately long for we don’t get.
Instead, learning to accept things how they are, neither good nor bad, etc. gives a profound sense of peace. It’s hard to do, as we are so conditioned in our western world to want and possess that it forms the core of our being. But the few moments where you can truly let go and just “be” are the most profound times you can experience. I have felt more calm, peace and contentment in those times than from anything in my LDS practices.
Stephen, I do not know your pain of losing your children from my own experience, and I find it hard to imagine the weight of it. I offer my sympathy, however.
My peace (when I choose to accept it) is in the atonement, for there my inadequate effort (at the most important things, anyway) can be made adequate.
I know (now that I am north of 50) better than I did a quarter of a century ago that my life is a series of choices, and with each choice I may open one door, but close another. I lament some of those closed doors, especially when I see that what was behind the doors I opened was not exactly what I had hoped.
I find some solace also in the old AA saw, “One day at a time”, recognizing the value of living in the now rather than lamenting (or reliving) the past and hoping for (or fearing) the future.
In taking things one day at a time, my “failures” are less catastrophic, and my successes (though smaller) are more likely.
I wish you peace.
I think this is much of what a midlife crisis is about. When I was young I had a bunch of ideas, of things I would accomplish in my life – religiously, career wise, family wise, avocation wise, etc. As time has passed by and these things have all variously became out of reach for different reasons, it has been hard. As each dream sequentially disappears from the realm of possibility, it is difficult. As many of them stack up, it affects me mentally. I’m to the point where I am what I am. I can see exactly where I’ll be in 10, 20, 30 years. And then it will be done.
The thing that has helped the most is realizing that I have really no power to change the things around me – but I can change my acceptance of the things around me. It’s made it a bit easier – but it’s still hard.
Given all that, I can’t compare it to the pain of losing a child. My heart goes out to you.
Part of the reason I’m ready to go is that I feel I’ve failed at everything I’ve tried to accomplish in this life–especially at what I considered most important–being a good mother.
I am trying to turn that thought around using “Feeling Good” techniques and praying for a miracle. Asking God to change my thoughts.
But realizing I’ve been so wrong is pretty daunting.