I don't like making mistakes. Does anyone? Mistakes--from burning the garlic bread under the broiler to offering someone a job that doesn't exist--upset me, pretty much equally it seems. I used to pride myself on my organizational abilities. I could keep track of the obligations and belongings of multiple people in and out of my household. Now, I find myself making little errors. I forgot to renew the registration on my car. I forgot to check my passport's expiration until 10 days before an international trip. I forgot to mail a birthday card. For a few years, I blamed such mistakes on the distractions created by personal turmoil, moving to a new city, starting a new job. What's my excuse now....age?
What bothers me is that these failures, these mistakes, challenge what I view as a fundamental aspects of my being--I am competent, I am capable, I am organized, I can be depended upon. Mistakes call into question those key understandings. What am I if I'm not those things? Who am I if I'm not competent and capable?
I'm a human. That's what and who I am. Like any real person, there are gaps in my competence. I make mistakes.
Today I was reading through the recently released textbook authored by one of my colleagues, "Principles and Practice of Psychiatric Rehabilitation." Early on are these words, "Failure, however, is a part of life. Everyone better understands the bounds of existence through the experience of falling short." My bounds are feeling pretty tight today....
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