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I’m playing around with a book concept. Something I probably won’t get to writing for a while, given all that’s going on in my life.

But the central premise is that all forms of personal and professional growth are borne of risk-taking and failure.

This isn’t a new idea.

So why don’t we take those risks? Why don’t we maximize our learnings from failure? Perhaps these questions do merit writing more about.

I’ve written only a little bit about the failure of my startup Bluenose Analytics, here and here. But in the years since, I’ve reflected extensively on the experience and what I could take away from it.

First lesson: adversity builds courage and much more. For example, the utter magnitude of Bluenose’s failure, and my accountability for it, mean that I won’t experience anything so monumental (unless & until I start another company!).

The effect is that I don’t freak out over risk-taking. New challenges that I might never have faced before become less scary. Scary, but less scary. So I’m now inoculated from the paralyzing fear of failure.

So remind yourself: at some point in your past you’ve taken risks and survived them. Even overcome them or outright prospered. Which can increase your appetite for risk-taking from here forward. If you’ve been so risk-averse in the past that you can’t draw lessons from risk & failure, then ask yourself what you are waiting for?

Second lesson: failure can create resiliency. But failure can also create negative feelings of defeat. So how to become resilient?

I think the key to failure is to own it. I *never* characterize Bluenose as anything but failure. Failure of the business and failure of me. Despite the fact that we achieved many things to be proud of. But “owning” failure means to not qualify it as somehow being less than it is. In my case, I lost $13m of famous investors’ money, denied my employees the ability to experience success from their hard work, and disappointed our customers. I own that no matter what else happened.

And to own it is to be able to move past it. I speak openly now about this failure, without sugar-coating or avoiding it. Because I can use this experience in many positive ways. This is resilience.

Third lesson: you can build stronger connections from failure.

In my case, I think one benefit of failure is that I am more vulnerable and engaging to the extent that I talk about it. As a leader, it’s tempting to try to project perfection. But what people really want from their leaders is a sense of connection. I’m good at projecting confidence, so using failure as part of my narrative is important to remind me and others of my utter humanity and fallibility.

Building connection from vulnerability can also position us to better empathize with others who are working through their own challenges. That empathy creates the pathways to be helpful by listening, questioning and advising.

So risk and failure can build courage, resiliency and connections. When you frame it like that, what’s the downside?