Your World Within Podcast by Eddie Pinero - The Truth About Failure No One Tells You | Powerful Motivational Speeches

Episode Date: September 8, 2025

We’ve been taught to fear failure. To see it as the end. But the truth is, every setback carries the lesson you need to move forward stronger, sharper, and more prepared. In this video, I’ll share why failure isn’t the enemy, it’s the teacher. And if you’re willing to see beyond the pain, you’ll realize it’s been guiding you all along.This is not about avoiding mistakes. It’s about transforming them into fuel. Because the truth about failure, the one no one tells you, is that it’s the very thing that builds the life you want.More from Eddie Pinero:Monday Motivation Newsletter: https://www.eddiepinero.com/newsletterYour World Within Podcast: https://yourworldwithin.libsyn.com/Stream these tracks on Spotify - https://spoti.fi/2BLf6pBInstagram - @your_world_within and @IamEddiePineroTikTok - your_world_withinFacebook - https://www.facebook.com/YourworldwithinTwitter - https://www.twitter.com/IamEddiePineroBusiness Inquiries - http://www.yourworldwithin.com/contact#liveinspired #yourworldwithin #motivation

What if the things you want most aren't really what you need? In fact, what if your struggle, pain, sadness, and despair, the very things you're hoping and praying go away are in and of themselves, the gift, the miracle? Because they are messengers bringing you what you could never have obtained otherwise. My friend Logan sent me a note the other day. quoting letter five of letters to Malcolm chiefly on prayer from C.S. Lewis. The voice note basically said,

Eddie, I know you're going to love this, and he was right. I was floored, so moved that I couldn't help but pass it along to some friends, and now I want to share it with you. So, in the same vein as Michael Scott from the office writing on the whiteboard, you missed 100% of the shots you don't take,

Wayne Gretzky dash Michael Scott, I'm going to quote my pal Logan quoting C.S. Lewis. Lewis said, if God had granted all the silly prayers I've made in my life, where would I be now? He then essentially implies that perhaps the prayers that are not answered end up giving us more than the ones that are. That maybe our greatest opportunities come from battling through our difficulties. from seeking to find the value in hardship, rather than wishing the hardship away. So it's not that we shouldn't be praying. It's that perhaps we should be asking for not shortcuts

or a shelter from the chaos of life, but the wisdom to identify life's necessary lessons. And oh man, what a beautiful reflection. What if we stopped praying for the painful circumstances is to be taken away and instead asked what he wants us to get out of them. It's not, please take the storm away. It's where can I unveil strength amidst the storm I didn't even know I had? Where is the value dispersed amongst this valley of despair I find myself navigating?

Part of life is understanding that quote-unquote misfortune is unavoidable. But along with that is understanding that lives are changed and fortunes are made when we are pushed to our max, when we are tired, lonely, scared, defeated, unsure. See, these are the things that teach us to gather ourselves and rebuild stronger. Like muscle breaking down to grow back greater than before. You can pray to be dropped at the end of a 10-mile run. But how self-defeating, right? The substance is the journey. It's hurting and finding a way to go on.

It's doubting whether you can hit your target and learning to trust yourself. It's running by people on the beach, beer in hand, relaxing, and knowing that in this moment you chose to be different. How insane to pray those things away, they are the miracle. It's asking to skip the movie and arrive at the moment. credit. To skip the book and wake up when the story is resolved, then it's time to place it back on the shelf. Our power is derived from our pain, our discomfort, so perhaps when going through it, we remind ourselves what it will all come to mean. We revisit the fact that just because the value appears invisible through the storm doesn't mean it's not there. We just tend to see it later

in the rear view when the dark clouds are behind us when the turbulence has died down and we can now reflect on what stares back in the mirror so here's to reframing those stories we tell

to not seek to wish away the obstacles but to seek guidance understanding and wisdom in getting from them that which makes life worth living. Here's to going where most don't dare go in order to emerge with what most don't have. Here's to living life with eyes open. To understanding in our despair exists the seed that will become our greatness, our joy in our triumph. Change the way you see the dragons of life

and you will simultaneously, with each swing of the sword, become capable of slaying them. Life is about duality. It's about being grateful for the road behind you, but also excited and hungry for what's ahead. That balance is where growth lives. It's why we created AGMS, always grateful, never satisfied. More than just an apparel company, it's a reminder that there's, always another hill to climb. And if you go to agns.orgist and you sign up for the email list, you'll get daily

inspiration right to your inbox. Latest updates on all the new merch drops, as well as a 20% off discount code. Hope to see you there. I was at my lowest running through the desert. When my friend and trainer noticed the look on my face, my pace slowed a little bit. And he said, Eddie, you said you wanted change. Well, this is where change happens, rise to the occasion. And that may not seem like much.

But that moment embedded something very important into my brain. It connected those moments of suffering to the outcome I so desperately want. Because as we all know, when you're in it, it's easy to see the occurrence in a vacuum. to disassociate the pain with the result. Sometimes you even forget why you're doing it. Why put yourself through something when, I don't know, the rest of the world is at home watching the game or having a beer? And what he did making that statement was put what's important front and center.

It's like, oh, Eddie, you can have all those things, all of them. But this is the cost, your call. Now that suffering takes on somewhat of a different shape. But it hurts. Well, of course it does. That's why very few people have the thing you want. That's why it's rare. It's why it means something.

Some things are so simple that we have to step up a level beyond the excuses and the minutia and the detail to understand. Desired result, price tag for that result. Simple. This came to mind as I was thinking about this. Have you ever tried to open a beer bottle or a glass bottle of Coke? And, you know, you use anything using a bottle opener, right? And you're like, man, this is putting up a fight.

And someone laughs and tells you it's a twist off. That's what rationalizing discomfort is. It's like, well, I don't really have to. Or maybe, you know, if I stop for a few minutes or I don't even know if this is the right decision. and, you know, all the stories and nonsense you tell yourself, and in reality, it's like, if you want the thing, this is what it costs. If you want what's inside the bottle, stop creating all these unnecessary mechanisms to open it

and twist the damn thing off. He said the same thing a few days later during a legs workout, doing some squats and lunges. And, again, right behind me, Eddie, you said you wanted change. Here is the change. Let's go. What say you? I think there's beautiful simplicity there.

Because if you don't want the change of the results, no problem. Leave. Go upstairs. Put your feet up. Have a coffee. Enjoy. But if you do, again, here is the price. Just like you're walking down the aisle at a grocery store. Numbers on a can. This is what it costs. Now, I think it's a beautiful reminder to take outside of fitness as well. Perhaps it's even why fitness is so important.

Because when you're physically tapped out but continuing on, you're doing it for a future return. You can see the unseeable. You are betting on the unknown. Same thing with a business that's taking forever, or giving you issues or presenting obstacles. The brain goes, ah, maybe this isn't for me. I'm not good.

I'll do something else. But wait. No. That hell you're going through is the cost of building a successful business. It doesn't mean you're in the wrong arena. It means you are closer than you think. As Eric said to me, this is where change happens. Do you want it or not?

Do you want the business or not? Because this uncomfortable feeling, this unknown, this waking up with stress and tension, it's a lot for some people. That's why so many walk away. What are you going to do? do. Maybe you're fighting a different battle altogether, health, diet, substance abuse. And you fell back on your old ways. You're looking in the mirror disappointed. How? How? Again, how did I do this? But in reality, we're not perfect beings. You took a micro loss. You're not proud of it. Perfect.

Now what? This is where the change happens. What are you going to turn that pain into? Why not let it be the start of the best chapter of your life? Because it can be. The reality is, and this is no secret or surprise, everyone falls. Everyone. But what I've learned is how you see the fall is everything. What you turn the fall into is defining. See, every outcome is a fork in the road.

It can be a reason to crumble or a reason to evolve. The world doesn't care. The world just gives you the pieces and invites you to make of them what you will. As was said, while I was hiking up a mountain the other day, the mountain is indifferent. Doesn't care, has no agenda, it just exists. It merely is.

It's up to you to navigate. It's up to you to change, to become the type of person who can make the ascent. So next time you, find yourself in one of those spots. You know what I mean. The world pressing down on your shoulders. Life feeling dark and heavy. Maybe impossible. I want you to ask if you want what's on the other side. Because if you do, that discomfort does not mean you're further from glory. It means you are knocking on glory's door. You're paying the premium. You're putting yourself

through a battle that most do not and will not fight. So you want change perfect. This is where change happens. Take the second and decide whether you're willing to rise up and seize it. The mountain doesn't ask for your past. It asks for your next step. There's something humbling about standing at the base of a mountain. You look up and there are.

Here it is, seemingly indifferent, standing there, quiet and movable. It's not impressed with your plans, not swayed by your doubts or concerns, and certainly not worried about yesterday. Which brings me to the lesson. The mountain doesn't ask for your past, it asks for your next step. Humphreys, the tallest mountain in Arizona. It wasn't the endgame. It was a symbol.

One step in a larger promise or commitment I made to myself. To build a stronger, sharper, more durable version of me. Not just physically, but in how I think, how I lead, how I endure. And while I knew I could climb this mountain, I was wrestling with the bigger picture. The same way that a mile or two into a half marathon, your mind starts wondering about what waits around the corner and your ability to overcome.

Can I really become that person? The one who does the hard thing, and here's the catch not once or twice, but every single day. This is not a small change. This is a death and rebirth, a recreation. becoming someone who chooses discomfort over ease and growth over validation. Because becoming that person means letting go of the person I used to be, and as we all know, that is no easy task.

The past is what we know. It's familiar, it's comfortable, even when it's heavy. That whole, I'll choose the devil I know over the devil I don't, I do. But the trail didn't care. It just stared back at me with one demand. The mountain doesn't ask for your past. It asks for your next step. And so we did what we set out to do and started climbing.

Not to prove I could summit, but to remind myself who I am evolving into. See, every rock, every gust of wind, every burn in my legs, it all has a purpose. not to punish but to reveal to strip away the unnecessary to leave me raw and focused and present up there there are no shortcuts no elevators or escalators no helicopter dropping you at the top

there is no pretending it's just you and your breath and the question will you carry on because the mountain doesn't ask for your past it asks for your next step.

And as we continued on to the ascent, and the air got thinner, and our legs got heavier, the irony became clear. The higher I climbed, the lighter I felt. Because every step forward wasn't just movement, it was release of who I thought I had to be, of who I was pretending to be,

of all the baggage I never needed in the first place. I wasn't chasing a view. I was shedding. an identity, creating a new self like a chisel to stone. And when I reached the top, I was kind of surprised by how I felt. Not so much victorious. I felt honest. Like for the first time and a long time, I was exactly where I was supposed to be, and not because

the world says so, but quite simply because I'd earned it. I'd adjusted the compass, locked in on a new North Star, and pursued it. There was no audience. There was no celebration. Just wind and space and silence. But in that silence, I heard it again. The mountain doesn't ask for your past. It asks for your next step.

And so I stood there thinking about life off the mountain. The challenges I still had to face. The moments coming where I'd want to quit. Where I knew I'd feel small. where I'd be tempted to shrink back into the old version of me. Just tap the alarm. Just have the beer. That version.

But now I had something I didn't have before. No trophy, no medal, a memory of what happens when you don't listen to the doubt, when you don't argue with the fear, when you just take the next step. So maybe this isn't really about mountains. Maybe it's about life. About evolution. Because if you're waiting for permission to grow, you'll never get it.

It doesn't come in the mail. No one delivers you that green light. If you're clinging to your past for security, you'll never move. But if you let go, if you trust the process, if you take the next step, you'll become someone the old you could never have imagined. And that's the point. The mountain doesn't ask for your past. It asks for your next step.

And so does life. You might not be climbing a mountain today, but you're facing one. We all are. For some it's the courage to leave a job that no longer fits. For others, it's rebuilding after heartbreak. Perhaps it's forgiving yourself, starting again quietly without applause. It's the steps no one sees. The thing. Most of life's defining moments aren't loud. They don't come with music and lighting

and cinematic buildup. They're silent. They're subtle. They're incredibly easy to avoid, but they're there every day. Maybe your trail is waking up early to chase a goal. Maybe it's walking into a gym for the first time in years. Maybe it's a difficult conversation or finally putting your name behind something you believe in, whatever it is. It will ask you the same thing that mountain asked me. The world doesn't ask for your past. It asks for your next step. Are you willing?

And here's the catch. Your past will fight like hell to stay relevant. It will remind you of every failure. It will whisper, you've never followed through before. Why now? It will say you're not the kind of person who does this. You know that.

And the longer you entertain that voice, the longer you delay becoming the person you're meant to be. Growth isn't about waiting until you feel different. It's about acting different. Until one day you look back and realize you grew into those shoes. So what's your next step? Not your next 10 years, not your perfectly curated plan, just your next step. You don't need to climb the whole mountain today. You just need to move.

because motion silences fear action builds confidence in the path whatever yours looks like will reveal who you're becoming take the step even if your legs shake even if your heart's pounding even if no one else understands why in fact especially then because life doesn't ask for your past it asks for your next step One of the most important things to understand. A cause for so much of our pain and discomfort comes down to this simple notion. Growth is very rarely about getting that magical thing you need and instead is about eliminating the things that you don't.

It's about less. If you imagine yourself as a backpacker, hiking, climbing mountains, It's instead of filling it with rocks That don't support where you're going Don't help you with the ascent Emptying that bag, removing it And taking with you only the essentials There's a story about a woman

Who loved her garden More than anything And she'd rise with the sun She'd kneel in the soil, care for the plants Like they were family, right? It was like that important to her. Watering, trimming, whispering encouragement,

like the earth itself was listening. And over time, her garden became her masterpiece. But as the seasons passed, became something else too. Something heavier. The vines grew wild. The weeds wrapped around the root, some plants that once bloomed,

now stood still and lifeless, confined. But she didn't remove them. She couldn't. Because she felt like they were a part of her. They reminded her of what she used to be. She held on out of habit, out of comfort, out of memory, out of fear of what removing them might mean. And, you know, we all have this story that we tell ourselves,

sometimes closely aligned with reality, sometimes very far from it. But in this case, she would tell herself, it was loyalty. She would leave the excess and the mess and the chaos because of loyalty. In reality, it was fear in disguise. Nothing more, nothing less. And one afternoon, her neighbor looked over the fence, said gently, Hey, you have a beautiful space. I see how hard you work on it.

I see how much you love it. and you know please excuse me for saying this but it seems like it's gotten a little crowded a little out of hand nothing new can grow in that soil that's already spoken for and the woman got mad at first hearing that kind of you know it hit personally but after a few seconds she calmed down and something seemed to click

thank you she responded I'll keep that in mind And that night as she walked through her garden, she did so with new eyes. Like, she finally saw what had taken over, the overgrowth and the clutter, the lifeless things still clinging to space that once belonged to beauty. And so she began the painful, sacred process of letting go. Not in anger. Not in resentment, but in reverence. She finally arrived at that place because it served her.

And now it was time to create room for something new. The same way that, you know, we all go into our closet to get dressed in the morning. Right? You open it, sometimes you immediately feel overwhelmed. Clothes stacked from 10 years ago. Jeans that don't fit anymore. Jackets you haven't worn but paid too much for us so you can't. keep them around.

And every time you try and find something to wear, you mutter, I have nothing to wear, right? We've all been there. But the truth is, it's not that you have nothing, it's that you have too much of it no longer fits. It's the same idea as the garden. And eventually, you know, there comes this moment, a breaking point where you say, I'm cleaning this out, right? This is out of hand.

You take everything off the hangers, you sort of piece by piece go through it all and ask, Does this represent who I am now? Does this fit now? Do I still want to carry this version of myself into the future? Not literally, but that's the idea. That's what we're asking. And what happens? You make space.

Your closet breathes again, and you walk away lighter. Not because you lost anything, but because you released what no longer belongs. And whether it's a garden or a closet, the principle is the same. Letting go is an act of self-respect. And yet, it's oddly something we resist. We think growth is about acquiring. Of course we do.

More friends, more commitments, more achievements. But true growth is often about subtraction. Removing noise and clutter, letting go of identities and habits and stories that once served us, But now hold us back. Now they are the weeds in the garden. Now they are the old unused jackets taking up space in the closet.

The question is not, is it good or bad? The question is, is it aligned with who I'm becoming? And they're very different things. There's a certain courage in letting go. I can, you know, speak from personal experience. I've come toe to toe with that demon over and over and over again. It's not easy. There's a quiet strength in choosing space in trusting that what you clear out will one day be filled with something better.

You have to put trust into the universe and yourself to navigate it. That space, that silence, that empty soil or open hanger, it's not a loss, it's an invitation. So here's my ask. What are you holding on to that no longer fits? What emotional weeds are choking out the light in your life? What memories are you watering long after the lesson's been learned? Because maybe, just maybe, it's time to weed that garden. To open the closet doors of your mind and say this no longer serves me,

and not just say it, but act on it. Letting go doesn't mean the past didn't matter. The past was everything. It was your lessons. It was your path. But there's a saying, what got you here won't get you there. Choosing less means you're no longer choosing to live in yesterday. You're not betraying who you were.

You're making peace with who you've been so that you can become who you're meant to be. When that woman cleared her garden, when you clean out your closet, what you're doing is reclaiming space for clarity and creativity, for purpose. And in that space, I promise you something beautiful blossoms. So here's the clearing the weeds. Here's to letting go of it no longer fit. To, yes, honoring that past, but building a future that breathes. Because this is not about gardens or closets, it's about you.

And the life that's waiting for you to make space for it. Silence is loud. Places I never went. The action. And I never took things I didn't say. They still ring in my ears. They echo across time. But not in the way you might think.

See, they arrive and fall before me at my feet, not as regret. But as a reminder that life isn't over. They appear, rather, as an invitation to transcend past limitation and step into that ever-elusive idea we often refer to as what can be. Did you remember that feeling being a kid? Let's say second grade. Put yourself in a desk looking up to the front of the classroom. Teacher asks a question.

And you know the answer. Well, at least you're pretty sure you know. But there's a seed of doubt. What if it misses the mark? What if it's not... quite there. You mull it over and ultimately keep your hands

in your pockets in your head down only for someone else to raise their hand. The teacher chooses them, they answer the question. They give the same answer you were going to give. Not only correct, but wow, excellent. Nailed it.

That was a tough one too. Round of applause. Good job, student X. Student X, with possessing both the right answer and the courage to be wrong if that's the result fate were to cast upon him. And the thought, it replays in your mind. It's like, I was going to say that.

I knew that. And then suddenly there's a shift. Student X's response gets quieter and quieter. It fades into the background. What was said is no longer relevant. All you can hear now are the jarring, droning echoes dispersed from the abyss your nothingness created. Your silence screams so loud that it penetrates every ounce of your being. The question, it was trivial.

The response didn't matter. It was never about that, was it? It was rather a microcosm of the crossroads we face in life over and over again, way beyond second grade. The question, do we act and risk the fall in exchange for the mountaintop, or do we pause, hesitate, and invite into our world's a silence so excruciating it cannot be outrun? A silence that covers every corner of your reality. that moves where you move and goes where you go, it lives until you find the courage to speak. Every once in a while, it's beyond valuable to be reminded that life is finite. It doesn't seem like it right now.

It doesn't seem like it from your desk or out the car window as you drive your kids to school. It doesn't seem like it in traffic. It doesn't seem like it in the wait room by yourself or putting your thoughts to paper at the kitchen table before the rest of the world wakes up. But none of this, my friends, is here to stay. It all goes. Every single thing. And so here's the switch I'm advocating be made.

In soccer and in hockey, when a team's losing by one very late in the second half or third period, they often pull the goalie, leaving their own net wide open. How vulnerable. But in doing so, they simultaneously increased their odds to score, because the goalie now acts as another attacker. Again, it is a gamble, a gamble for sure. But down by one, when time is running out, who? cares. It gives you a chance. And I don't see how life is any different. We're all here for a length of time that equates to a blink of an eye. We are a raindrop in a thunderstorm. The siren is about to sound. The whistle is about to blow. In a million years, why would you not pull the goalie? Why would you sit there in a self-creature?

created silence wondering what life could have looked like if only you gave more. This is the one and only opportunity to pour all of yourself into something before something becomes nothing and the march of time leaves you in the rear view. Yeah, maybe you win and maybe you don't. But the ticking clocks, they're playing a different game altogether, and to win yours, you must understand theirs. Silence is louder than a swing and a miss. It's louder than a courageous soul who misjudges an approach and smashes into the ground.

It's louder than the lesson's life graciously hands out to those willing to step into the belly of the beast. Silence is loud. So go scream your truth unto the world. Go make your mark. No, not for vanity. But because of the same question previously alluded to, why not? As far as I'm concerned, odds don't dictate reality as much as they shape perspective. You, you shouldn't be here.

The statistical likelihood is just too small. Your existence has attached to it almost impossible odds, yet here you are. And you have the audacity given this info to sit there in silence. You're delusional, selfish, wasteful enough to not go, to not try, to not unpack the gift at your feet and make your way into the world. My friend, your silence screams. So go. Leave in your wake a trail of courage that screams. louder.

Leave behind you a message to the world that you weren't given much time. No, not much time at all. But you were given enough time. Your snapshot in the movie of eternity, your verse in the great play of life, your chapter in the book of existence, it will read

like the miracle that it is. Oh, miracle, that's a big word. That's a lot of pressure. But no, it's not about the magnitude of your decision-making. It's about walking through those little doors in life that terrify you. It's about saying yes to those opportunities that put knots in your stomach and cause your hands to shake. It's about sharing your voice, delivering your thoughts, even when you don't. know how they'll be received it's walking the path you know in your soul you need to be

walking the silence is deafening so speak into that void make something you can call your own chip away at the marble until what's precious remains so be louder than the dissenting voices be louder than the ticking clocks be louder than the ticking clocks Be louder than the setting sun. Be so loud that even if, for a brief, single moment in time, the world knew you were here.