The internet tells me it’s a Japanese proverb. It’s at least an idiom, probably originating outside of English, and maybe–who knows?–adjacent to Zen.

Nana korobi ya oki. It’s about falling and what comes next. What’s it mean? Supposed translations include “seven times falling down, eight times rising up” and “fall down seven times, get up eight” and (perhaps my favorite) “seven falls, eight rises.” 

Most “sources” on the idiom are memes and social media posts, text superimposed on stock photos of flowers and mountains, and, unironically, one-legged men lifting heavy weights in gymnasia. (There’s also some entertaining Reddit debate as to the logic of Nana korobi ya oki’s structure: wouldn’t seven falls then seven corresponding rises be sufficient? Except that this presumes we begin the story of ourselves already standing, and humans don’t, so…)

Medium posts and blogs abound about the leadershippy sentiment of the idea. These leave a bad taste, for me. They espouse “keeping at it until…” and “never give up.” I don’t know that the spirit of the thing is about forever. Or once we get there. Or even success.

A writer friend of mine talks about consistency not as performing consistently, but trying consistently. An outcome doesn’t determine whether or not she tries again next time.

Here’s where I’m at. Challenges persist, and maybe I can too. The universe is not out to get me. I have no cosmic agenda to fulfill. There are ups and downs. (“Fact!” she shouts to herself in a terrible impersonation of Dwight from The Office.)

Seven falls, eight rises. Not a bad four-word memoir.

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Writing prompt: What’s something you do that makes it more likely you can continue?

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