We grow up being told to win. To aim for first place, to beat the competition, to strive for the top. And hWe grow up being told to win. To aim for first place, to beat the competition, to strive for the top. And honestly? That’s not a bad thing. Ambition can drive us to excel. But my conversation with my friend Ben Erste — Regional Planning Director, former rugby player, and fellow Baylor Law grad — reminded me of something important: sometimes it’s second place, or even failure, that teaches us the lessons we really need.

Ben admitted that, for most of his life, he didn’t think losing had any value. He idolized people like Tiger Woods and Tom Brady — athletes who simply didn’t lose. To him, second place was just a polite way of saying you weren’t good enough. But as life and career unfolded, his perspective shifted.

“When you don’t win, it changes your emotional character in a way winning never will. Losing builds grit that success simply can’t teach.”

That stopped me in my tracks. Because he’s right. Winning teaches you how to maintain, but losing teaches you how to get back up. And that resilience — that grit — often matters more in the long run.

Losing Isn’t the End — It’s the Training Ground

Think about the last time you lost something that mattered — a game, a job, an opportunity. It stings. It lingers. But it also shapes you. Ben explained that the “different energy” of being second, or not being on top, develops resilience that winners can’t access in the same way. When you’re on top, the fight is about keeping your position. When you’re not, the fight is about climbing, adapting, and proving yourself. Both matter, but only losing forces you into that second fight.

I thought of Hertz, the rental car company, which once leaned into the fact that they weren’t number one. Their slogan? “We’re number two. We try harder.” That mindset applies to us, too. Sometimes not being the best fuels us to dig deeper, to learn more, to hustle harder. That’s the grit you don’t get by winning easily.

And grit isn’t just about the moment. It stays with you. Losing leaves an imprint — you remember how it felt, and you remember that you got back up. That memory is a compass you carry forward into the next challenge.

Beyond that, failure also expands your empathy. When you’ve been second, you understand others who are still fighting their way up. That compassion makes you a better leader, teammate, and friend. Winning may inspire others, but losing connects you to them.

Facing Imposter Syndrome Head-On

Another theme we unpacked was imposter syndrome. Ben described walking into his current job: no training manual, millions of dollars of projects under his supervision, and the shoes of a lifer who no one else knew how to replace. Talk about pressure.

“I had no idea what was going on. I just asked questions, asked for help, and worked hard. And that effort built trust.”

That’s the part we often forget. Imposter syndrome tells us we don’t belong. But when you show up, ask for help, and put in the work, you prove yourself capable. As Ben put it, you don’t have to be an expert on day one. You just have to keep showing up long enough for effort to become competence.

I reframed imposter syndrome this way: if you’re not feeling stretched and uncomfortable, are you really growing? As a mentor once told me, “You can’t grow in a comfort zone, and you can’t be comfortable in a growth zone.” Discomfort isn’t failure. It’s progress.

The truth is, everyone who has ever done something meaningful has felt out of their depth at some point. The difference between those who quit and those who grow is not whether they felt like imposters — it’s whether they pushed forward anyway.

And here’s something else worth noting: when you’re honest about imposter syndrome, it helps others open up, too. Admitting “I don’t know everything yet” builds connection instead of shame. People don’t trust perfection; they trust authenticity.

The Role of Work Ethic

Ben made another point that I think is worth highlighting: “If you are willing to put in the effort to anything and just work really hard at it, you can be above average at anything.” That’s not to say you’ll become the best in the world, but it does mean hard work multiplies whatever natural talent you have. When you’re willing to grind, to ask questions, to keep showing up, people begin to trust you — and often, they’ll overestimate how much you know simply because you’re consistent.

That lesson matters for anyone starting something new: you don’t have to be brilliant to begin. You just have to work hard enough to keep going.

And work ethic doesn’t just matter in career — it matters in relationships. Putting effort into family, friendships, and faith makes them stronger. Half-hearted energy creates half-hearted connections. Consistency builds trust in every area of life.

Faith as a Foundation

One of the most powerful parts of our conversation came when I asked Ben what makes life “clear enough” for him right now. His answer was simple: faith.

“My faith is what anchors my ethics and my choices. Without it, I don’t know where I’d be.”

He explained that without faith, it would be easier to justify selfish decisions. With it, he has a framework for living beyond himself. I resonated with that deeply. My wife and I are in the stage of life where many people walk away from faith. For me, the question has become: If it’s true, is it worth it? And when I really think about it, faith still makes my life richer, more grounded, and more meaningful.

Faith, grit, and resilience may seem like different categories, but they all serve the same purpose: they anchor us when life gets hard.

And that’s why the intersection of faith and failure matters so much. Faith gives us hope when failure makes us doubt. Failure humbles us when faith makes us bold. Together, they form a rhythm — one keeps us moving, the other keeps us grounded.

Faith also gives perspective. When you see your life as part of a bigger story, setbacks don’t feel like the end. They feel like chapters. That outlook makes it easier to persevere.

Funny Stories Along the Way

Of course, it wouldn’t be a Clear Enough conversation without a little humor. Ben told me about accidentally calling a local dignitary while at a sports bar — not his finest moment. I shared about a professor calling me “Bushmaster” instead of Bushman for weeks in law school. These moments keep us humble, remind us not to take ourselves too seriously, and prove that even in the middle of serious topics, laughter has a place.

We even veered into food stories — like Taco Bell, and vegan friends who made exceptions for orange chicken. These stories might seem random, but they matter. They remind us that behind every big idea, there’s a person, a laugh, and a story you wouldn’t believe unless you lived it. And those stories are often what stick with us long after the episode ends.

Humor is also a survival skill. If you can laugh at yourself, you can survive the hardest seasons. Failure may bruise the ego, but humor cushions the fall.

The Clear Enough Mindset

So, what’s the takeaway? Losing matters. Imposter syndrome matters. Faith matters. They’re not signs you’re failing — they’re signs you’re becoming.

Ben closed with this encouragement: “If people just thought about how to be the best version of themselves each day, the world would be infinitely better. But you can’t get to five without one. Start small, keep going, and keep growing.”

That’s what Clear Enough is all about. We don’t need the whole plan, or even first place. We just need enough clarity to take the next right step — and trust that grit, faith, and resilience will carry us forward. And that’s worth remembering.