Failure
"What happens if I fail?" said the Stag
"People will laugh at you," said the Rat
"What happens if you don't?" said the Wren
The River never fails
You spend your life avoiding failure. Staying safe. Not taking the risk. Not putting yourself out there where people might see you fall.
But playing it safe has a cost, too. Not just what you don't achieve, but who you don't become. The version of you that never tried. Never found out what was possible. Never knew what you were actually capable of.
And the Rat knows this. "People will laugh at you" - maybe. But they're already watching you play small. Already seeing you hold back. The defence isn't protecting you from judgment. It's guaranteeing a different kind of judgment: the quiet recognition that you're living scared.
What happens if you don't fail? You never find out what you could have done. You never learn what failure actually feels like (spoiler: survivable). You never build the capacity to recover, adjust, and try again.
The River doesn't ask if it will succeed before it flows. It just moves. Sometimes it floods. Sometimes it's low. It never stops being a river.
What are you defending against that's costing you more than the risk itself?
Stories from the Vltava River.
You spend your life avoiding failure. Staying safe. Not risking being seen to fall.
But playing it safe has a cost. Not just what you don't achieve, but who you don't become. The version of you that never tried. Never found out what was possible.
"People will laugh at you," says the Rat. Maybe. But they're already watching you play small. The defence isn't protecting you from judgment - it's guaranteeing you live scared.
What happens if you don't fail? You never find out what you could have done. You never learn that failure is survivable. You never build the capacity to recover and try again.
The River doesn't ask if it will succeed before it flows. It just moves.
What are you defending against that's costing you more than the risk itself?
Stories from the Vltava River.