learning how to fall

Why is it that we are so enamored by 'learning how to fall'?

At least that's the impression I got from some of the things that I have been observing.

When one learns surfing, the first thing they teach is "how to fall off the board safely".

In judo, it's also the same thing: how to fall and break it so you won't break a bone.

In whitewater rafting, the first lesson is: how to get back onto the boat when it turns over.

In volleyball: how to fall on that special mat, roll, and get out of the other players' way.

Then this thing on "golden parachutes" that CEOs get before they take on the role.

It's as if we're so obsessed with failing - that we have to prepare for it from day one. 

Why not teach "the beauty of the waves - and being underneath them"?

Or the beauty of using another's anger and force to one's own advantage?

Or the beauty of jumping high, doing a spike, or blocking an opponent's deadly smash?

Or the beauty of leading a team of people - who are not bound by blood but (hopefully) by vision - to create the best organizations.

Surely, these are far better motivators than failure.

Or are they?

I have never learned how to fall.

Though I wouldn't call myself risk-averse, I also wouldn't call myself riskophilic.

I just never had learned how to fall.

And that is why sometimes, when I fall, I fall hard.

Is it because I see the beauty of the possibilities that tend to overshadow the possibilities of failure?

Is it because I see the "good" in people more than the possibility of them being "bad"?

I have had my shares of failures.  And of 'bad' people.

And still.  I have never learned how to fall.

And right now, I am not sure if I want to learn that.