“If you are brave enough often enough, you will know disappointment.” ~ Brené Brown
If you are a Canadian hockey player or fan, you are disappointed today. (And if you’re not, here’s what you need to know: the Canadian women’s and men’s hockey teams both lost in overtime to the US to win silver instead of gold medals at the Olympics. Both. Lost. In overtime. To the US. Thank you for your condolences.)
Plus, the Olympics are now over.
It has me thinking about helpful ways to sit with disappointment. As someone who encourages people and organizations to reimagine their next chapter and intentionally shape their future, what is the message when you lose the imagined ending?
Here’s what I know so far — and you don’t need me to tell you that this applies far more broadly than to hockey games:
- Feel the feels, and name them
Near misses are hard to accept. A story you were invested in has been disrupted, and that’s frustrating and sad. There is grief, and grief is messy. Labelling all of this and allowing yourself to let the feelings run their course are good first steps. I appreciate what I’ve learned from Emily and Amelia Nagoski and from Ethan Kross on emotional regulation if you’re looking for more. - Allow for the both/and that comes from multiple measures of success
I’d suggest avoiding, “Well at least…” — but it is worth noticing there are multiple ways to ‘win,’ and the final score isn’t the only way. You may have lost on some measures, but you can win on others at the same time — perhaps on effort, or poise, or encouragement of others, or mindset through hardship. I’m admiring speedskater William Dandjinou in this area right now — you can enjoy an interview with him here. - Zoom in and out
“Put it into perspective” can be hard to hear, but there is wisdom in considering how your disappointment looks from a much higher altitude and from a more granular view too. What do the specific details look and feel like? How will this situation likely be remembered in five years? Different vantage points can yield new insights and feelings. - Consider the alternatives
How might you complete the sentence: “Disappointment is the price of…” — Engaging? Hoping? Dreaming? Trying? It’s easy to “armour up” and want to protect ourselves from disappointment, but doing so comes at a high cost. We’d miss out on so much! As Canada’s captain Marie-Philip Poulin says in this interview just 12 hours after a heartbreaking loss: “…these are the moments you dream of.” - Choose where to focus your attention, in chunks
“The things you say often become the things you believe” is an observation from Ali Abdaal that really stuck with me from Wiser by Choice recently. What we feed grows. Once the initial sting of disappointment begins to ease, we have a choice of which elements of the story to focus on. I have a friend who says, “We get to choose which feelings box we re-open and how long the lid stays off.” - Learn what you can
We can learn from experience, but doing so is not inevitable. It requires engaging in the experience, but also reflecting on it and applying the lessons to future actions. I was struck by how many heartbroken Olympians asserted in their post-performance interviews, “This experience will make me better.” - Write a generous story
And as time goes on, we get to choose how we tell and retell the story of our disappointment. There are always gaps in the story — information we don’t have — and as meaning-makers, we choose to fill in those gaps all the time. May we choose to build a narrative that is full of grace and wisdom.
Because the things we say often become the things we believe.
That’s it on Olympics-related blogs from me, I promise. At least until the summer games in 2028!
