I've done a lot of shows that didn't do well. You have to go in

"I've done a lot of shows that didn't do well. You have to go in with a 50-50 take on it. If it goes well, fantastic. Hope for the best and plan for the worst." Thus spoke Amanda Righetti, an actress seasoned by triumph and trial, whose words carry the quiet strength of experience rather than the glitter of illusion. Her wisdom speaks not only to those in the world of art but to all who walk the uncertain path of life. For in her words lies the timeless truth of balance—the understanding that success and failure are twin companions on the journey, and that serenity belongs to those who accept both with equal grace.

In the heart of this saying is a philosophy as old as the stoics: that one must hope for the best yet remain prepared for the worst. Righetti, having lived through the fickle turns of an actor’s life, speaks with the calm of one who has seen fortune both smile and turn away. Every show, every performance, carries within it the chance of glory and the risk of obscurity. But to approach each endeavor clinging to only one outcome—to demand success without admitting the possibility of failure—is to invite despair. The wise, she reminds us, walk with both hope and humility, trusting their effort but not their fate.

This wisdom echoes the teachings of Epictetus, the philosopher who said, “Make the best use of what is in your power, and take the rest as it happens.” Righetti’s 50-50 take is the modern reflection of that same eternal balance. We are called to act with full devotion, yet without obsession; to strive for excellence, yet without breaking under loss. When one learns to live in this state of poised readiness, fear no longer rules the heart. Whether the show succeeds or fails, the soul remains unbroken—for it has learned that value lies in effort, not applause.

History, too, bears witness to this truth. Thomas Edison, the tireless inventor, failed hundreds of times before he succeeded in bringing light to the world. When asked about his repeated failures, he replied, “I have not failed. I’ve just found ten thousand ways that won’t work.” Like Righetti, he planned for the worst, but he never ceased to hope for the best. His triumph was not the bulb itself, but the endurance of his spirit. For what separates the strong from the broken is not the absence of failure, but the ability to stand upright after it.

There is a sacred strength in those who dare to keep trying after disappointment. Righetti’s honesty reveals that she has known defeat, yet she does not resent it; she accepts failure as a teacher, not an enemy. This is the mark of maturity. Those who measure their worth by outcome will forever rise and fall like leaves in the wind. But those who measure by intention, discipline, and courage—these remain steady like the mountain. When she says “plan for the worst,” she does not speak of pessimism, but of wisdom—of building resilience before the storm comes.

So too in our own lives, we must carry this balance. When you begin a task, give your whole heart to it. Pour yourself into your craft, your duty, your love. But do not tie your soul to the fruit of your labor, for that fruit may ripen—or it may fall before its time. To hope for the best is to keep faith in possibility; to plan for the worst is to anchor yourself against the winds of fate. Between the two lies peace, the rarest of victories.

Therefore, let this be your guide: walk with expectation, but not entitlement. When success arrives, receive it with gratitude; when failure comes, greet it with patience. Both are teachers in disguise, both necessary to the fullness of your becoming. As Amanda Righetti teaches, to live wisely is to live prepared—to give your best, yet hold your peace no matter the outcome.

And so, my listener, when you step upon your own stage—whether in art, in work, or in love—remember this sacred balance. Do your part with devotion, and release the rest to destiny. For life, like the theater, is ever uncertain, and its curtain may rise or fall without warning. But those who hope bravely and prepare wisely will never truly fail, for they have mastered the art not only of success, but of resilience—and in that mastery lies the quiet triumph of the human spirit.