DEAR KRISTIN: I went into the summer with all these great expectations and lofty goals. Now that summer’s over, I’m faced with the realization that I didn’t meet even one of my goals. Not one.

I keep hearing that embracing our failures is the only way to really grow. This concerns me because even though I’ve fallen short of just about every goal I’ve set and struggled through more than my fair share of summer setbacks, I still feel like precisely the same person I’ve always been. I don’t feel like I’ve evolved or grown at all, which really stinks. I don’t want to crawl into fall feeling fear and self-loathing. I want to pick myself up and step into September with renewed confidence. Maybe you can take my hand and help guide me there? -- REFUSING TO CRAWL INTO FALL

DEAR CRAWL: You’re spot-on when you talk about failure. Embracing our setbacks and missteps is a wonderful way to promote positive change in our lives -- but you missed one important caveat: As long as we don’t keep repeating those mistakes. That’s where folks often get tripped up. The only way you can learn from failure is by reflecting on it with thoughtfulness and intention, analyzing the lessons you learned from it and then, finally, taking care not to repeat those missteps moving forward. Progress, not perfection.

Also, be careful with goal-setting. You mention that you fell short of all of your summer goals, but you didn’t mention what those goals were, which is a blessing of sorts because it allows me to speak not just to you specifically but to all of my readers in a more general sense: Make sure the goals you set for yourself are realistic. Don’t set yourself up for failure.

Don’t set a goal of scaling Mt. Everest by the end of August if you still can’t walk to your mailbox without getting winded. Do the prep work that is required to meet your goal. Make a timeline for yourself. Set your intention. And then the most important part of all: Follow up that intention with action. Intention by itself is not enough; action must follow.

Consider making a list of goals for the fall. Keep it simple, keep it short and make sure the goals are attainable. If you fall short, allow yourself the necessary luxury of reflecting upon WHY you fell short. Live within the lessons you’ve learned. Then try it again.

I love that you refuse to surrender to self-loathing. I love that you still want to fly into fall, even though your wings have been clipped by the setbacks you’ve suffered this summer.

Fly on, Beloved. Fly high. But chart your course with great care and intention. And if you get blown off-course -- and we ALL get blown off-course at some point -- understand that you have the power, the choice and the inner moral compass to get yourself back on track.

Do the prep work and kick the pity parties to the curb. Life is too short for self-doubt. You’ve got this.

Now go get it.

DEAR KRISTIN: I love the woman I live with. I really do. But I have a problem: She talks all the time. All. The. Time. She talks in the movies. She talks in church. She talks while we’re watching TV. She talks while we’re hiking (“to keep the bears away,” she always says.) She even talks in her sleep. I’m just about tapped out and I’m DEFINITELY talked out. You always write about the power of quietude and silence. I’m asking you now to take me by the hand and lead us to that place. Please!

DEAR TAPPED OUT: I feel your frustration, Beloved. And my guess is that probably just about everybody who’s reading my column right now has felt this frustration at some point in their lives. The thing about “quietude” (the word you used, which I absolutely love), is that it must be intentionally created.

To quiet yourself and those around you, you must create an environment that invites and encourages such stillness of the mind. You can’t “hope” silence into being. You’ve got to get yourself there with a sense of purpose and intentionality. This kind of purposeful intention will also (if you’re lucky) send the signal to those around you that you take your silence seriously, which might help your friend modify her behavior.

Talk to her about how important it is to you to have moments of contemplation and reflection. Communicate your needs; don’t just stew over the fact that your needs are not being met. She cannot read your mind. Put simply: Talk about the important of not talking all the time.

Help her understand that silence itself is far more than the absence of noise. It is the presence of peace and growth, and our brains need this empty space as much as our bodies need food and water. On your next hike, for instance, consider suggesting that the two of you listen to the sounds of nature as you walk, rather than the sounds of your own voices.

Consistency is also important: Maybe set aside a certain time each day that’s free of sound. Don’t make it last too long, though -- at least not initially. Perhaps 10 or 20 minutes each day (or every other day). Don’t set yourself up for failure straight out of the gate; build up your silence reservoir gradually.

And if she doesn’t want to take this silence journey with you, then you must take the journey on your own. Where’s it written that couples must practice precisely the same patterns? The key is to establish your own pattern, then stick to it. If she wants to come along, fine. If not, seek your silence without her. Whatever you do, don’t give up on your quest for quietude.

Here’s a more direct way to reach her with your “please be quiet” message”: Consider printing this article out and maybe leaving it on her nightstand. Or if you’re feeling a bit bolder, tape it to the refrigerator. She’ll get the point.

You should also pat yourself on the back for recognizing the problem while you can still do something about it! I know plenty of folks who simply tune out the voices of their partners and ignore them completely -- which is the saddest sound of all.

Whatever you, do it soon. Do it before anger and impatience take over. Do it from a place of love.

Just do it.

DEAR KRISTIN: Lately, I’ve been haunted by this sensation that a dark cloud is hovering above me. This sense of fear and foreboding began last weekend, after an entire day of averted tragedies and close calls. I’ll explain: I was walking down the street to meet a girlfriend for tea last Saturday, and a car jumped the curb. It would have surely hit me had not a complete stranger in back of me pushed me out of harm’s way.

In the tea shop, our well-meaning but kinda clumsy waitress lost her grip on her tray and an entire pot of scalding water came crashing down onto the table, but not a drop spilled on me. After tea, as we were walking down the street laughing and having ourselves a great time, a guy comes out of nowhere, knocks my girlfriend to the ground and not only snatches her purse but dislocates her shoulder. I never even saw him coming.

I’m a strong, determined single female living in the big city, but now I feel like I’m being followed and tracked by a hungry lion who’s just waiting for the right moment to pounce. All those close calls on a single day have me feeling worried and more than a little wigged out. Why can I do to lose this lion that seems to be tracking my every step? Or is all of this just my imagination? Whatever it is, I hate it. My own fear frightens me. -- HUNTED

DEAR HUNTED: I’ll offer a few pragmatic suggestions right up front. First, see a trained professional. I’m not equipped to help you decide whether your fear is real or imagined, but I can certainly wrap my arms around you, extend a hand of comfort and validate for you that your fear is REAL. If you feel it, it is real. Now you must dig deeper to get to its source. You don’t have to fight (or even face) this “lion” alone. Bring in a professional lion-tamer, Beloved.

Second, you must expand your vision, both literally and figuratively. As a single female -- even a strong, determined one -- you’ve got to open your eyes and become more aware of the physical world around you. You write that you never even saw your girlfriend’s assailant approach. This concerns me. As women in this world, we must take direct responsibility for our safety and well-being, even (perhaps ESPECIALLY) when we’re at our most relaxed; when we’re walking down the street having a great time. Consider enrolling in a Situational Awareness Training course, for your own good. Plenty of cities and counties offer these classes free of charge. I’m sure there are even free on-line courses.

Also, on the topic of expanded vision, consider this: Instead of considering yourself burdened and besieged, try to consider yourself blessed. A car almost ran you down ... but a complete stranger pushed you to safety! Your waitress spilled a pot of scalding water only inches away from you ... but not even a drop got on you! Your friend was knocked down and even injured ... but she is still alive and well, and you are both going to take definitive steps to avoid such a situation again (situational awareness classes).

These are setbacks, yes, but they are also blessings. It’s all about perspective.

I say a prayer of thanks at the end of each day for all the close calls I encountered. I actually give thanks for the bad things that didn’t happen ... but could have. I am grateful for all of the averted crises and the potential tragedies. Expressing gratitude for the bad things that didn’t happen is every bit as important as expressing gratitude for the good things that did.

Wear a wider lens, and also take deliberate action to keep yourself safe. Learn to look at the close calls as blessings to be savored rather than as burdens that must be endured.