It Is Impossible to Fail
Your life is the notebook. Your purpose is the pencil. The next sentence is yours.
Friends,
If somebody asked me to sum up everything I have learned about success in one sentence, this would be it:
It is impossible to fail.
I know how that sounds. People fail at things every day. They lose opportunities, make mistakes, and chase dreams that turn out nothing like they imagined.
I have failed at things, too. Plenty of them.
But those failures are events inside a life. They are not the verdict on a life.
That is what this week’s Along the Way is about.
Your life is the notebook. Your purpose is the pencil. The eraser reminds us that a mistake does not have to become a commandment.
You can make a correction. You can learn from the pages you cannot change. And while there is still an empty line in front of you, you can write the next sentence yourself.
Before this video is over, I also want you to hear what the next page of my own story sounds like.
WATCH: IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO FAIL
The music you hear in this video belongs to Five Minutes in America, my new storytelling program coming to radio five days a week, five minutes at a time.
These won’t be stories that tell you which political team to join or ask you to spend five more minutes angry at somebody you have never met.
They will take you to kitchen tables, fence lines, bait shops, front porches, and courthouse squares—places where ordinary people reveal who they are.
If that sounds like something you want to hear in America, I am asking you to help me put it there.
Become a paid member of The Coffman Chronicle.
Paid members will hear Five Minutes in America before the stories reach radio. Membership is $8 monthly or $80 annually, and it helps carry these stories from my notebook to the airwaves.
You won’t simply hear the first chapter.
You will be one of the people who helped me write it.
Whatever page you are on right now, ask yourself:
Who is holding the pencil?
If this video speaks to you, share it with someone who may be ready to take back the authorship of their own life.
One day, every story ends.
What matters is that the handwriting was yours.
I’m Tony Michaels.
I’ll see you along the way.