Last week in my Single New Beginnings class one of the participants asked me a question about a quotation that we read every week. I’ve been reading it for over a year. She’s read it for over two but never raised the question before. I was surprised when she took exception to the statement and asked me what the author meant because she didn’t agree with it.
My response was quick but not very thoughtful. I simply said, “I didn’t write it so I’m not totally sure. We’ll have to ask the author”.
It was taken from Julia Cameron’s book, The Artist’s Way. “All creative success requires creative failures.” Later I sought an online explanation and found this.

Cameron’s point is simple: creativity isn’t a straight line. It’s a series of attempts, each one teaching you something — what you care about, what you don’t, what you’re ready for, and what still needs time to simmer. You don’t get to skip the awkward parts. You don’t get to leapfrog over the clumsy drafts. They’re part of the deal.
If failure is part of the process, then there’s nothing wrong when a piece falls flat. I’m not “blocked.” I’m not “losing it.” I’m just doing the work of showing up, trying something, learning from it, and trying again.
If you consider how this applies to art, it’s pretty straight forward. When I write I start and stop dozens of times. I’ve got a few pieces in my draft folder that I began over two years ago. I’ve got one that dates back almost five. I plan to finish them all, but I may never. I take a look back from time to time, but I’m just not ready to make the move yet.
There have been times when I took the draft, started writing, and ended up with an entirely different piece than I began with. That’s not failure. I just took a different route.
Ruth had her own way of making art. Sometimes she’d sketch in pen and ink and fill in the lines with watercolor. Other times she’d reach for acrylics or oils. And if a piece didn’t satisfy her, she didn’t hesitate. She’d tear it apart, save the fragments she loved, and let the rest go. There are dozens of those rescued pieces tucked away in Michigan and Florida.
I’ve realized that her approach applies to more than art. Both of my houses are full of things I’ll never use. Things Ruth chose. Things whose purpose I still can’t quite identify. Decorative? Functional? Or simply something that caught her eye? I’ve opened cupboards, sorted drawers, and emptied closets. I’ve given away a ton of things, and I’ve kept some for no reason other than I’m not ready to let them go. That’s alright. Not being finished doesn’t mean I haven’t made progress.
The lady who questioned the Cameron quotation has several boxes of papers in her home that she needs to examine. She’s been talking about her boxes since the day I met her thirteen months ago. She’s not done sorting. Her failure to complete the job doesn’t mean she hasn’t enjoyed some success.
I think the same logic can be applied to relationships. I drank several first cups of coffee before I found the woman I wanted to share a second cup with. We’ve shared dozens now and I hope we share a million more. The failed cups helped lead to my success. I’m thankful for them all because they helped me sort things out.
Maybe that’s the purpose of Cameron’s line. She’s reminding us that life isn’t about being right all the time. It’s about being willing. Willing to experiment. Willing to be imperfect. Willing to try something that may not end up at your intended goal but still having faith in the process.
So, here’s to the drafts that don’t work. The ideas that sputter. The projects that stall. They’re a part of life. They’re evidence of movement. Moving forward helps ensure success. It doesn’t matter if you’re writing a story, painting a picture, sorting through boxes, or looking for your new love. You’ve gotta keep on keepin on.


I need to remember this! Perhaps The Universe prompted the woman to ask the question so you would write this blog. This wisdom about patience is not something I was taught. I confess I too have read it weekly for years but this blog has stories. And they matter.