Imperfect=Empathy

perfect

My daughter Meg puts a tremendous amount of pressure on herself. While she was growing up I always said I didn’t need to punish her much because she punished herself much harder than I ever could or would.

When I answered the phone at work yesterday, it was Meg and she was in tears. My immediate thought was she had been in a car accident. Fortunately she wasn’t.

She too was at work, only she hadn’t known she was supposed to be there. She’s a lifeguard and now that it’s the first week of their summer they are running five different pools with five different schedules and she missed that she was scheduled to be at a pool she infrequently guards. Luckily another guard called to tell her she was on the schedule, so she was able to quickly get dressed and get to work. Late. When she got there, already feeling really awful for being late, she discovered she was supposed to be at work the day before too.

And she collapsed under the terrible weight she puts on herself. She collapsed under the weight of trying to be perfect.

For her it didn’t matter that this was the second time in three years she had been late for a shift or that it was the first time she had missed a shift. Her immediate, automatic reflex was to beat herself up over her mistake.

“I don’t deserve to be head guard,” she said to me through the tears.

“Yes you do,” I told her. “Because you feel this way is why you should be head guard. Because you care so much. You made a mistake and it is okay and actually this will make you a better head guard. You will understand that even with the best of intentions, people make mistakes. They will be late sometimes and sometimes they will even miss a shift. And now you can remember when being late or missing a shift happened to you, how it happened by mistake, how it happened completely unintentionally, and how terrible you felt because it happened. You overlooked a shift and made a mistake. You aren’t perfect sweetheart and you have to learn to stop expecting yourself to be.”

Crying less, she told me it was time for her to get in the stand and so she had to go. After I hung up the phone I thought about mistakes and how, when we are willing to do the work it takes to learn from them, they are a perfect breeding ground for empathy. When we can accept mistakes, even failure, as a lesson, as an opportunity to see we are imperfect, and then, when we can learn to forgive ourselves for being imperfect, we can begin to not only live in our own skin easier, we can also begin to better forgive others, to better tolerate our fellow human beings as imperfect as well.

Next week my 17 year old Meg will experience being a manager for the first time and I think the mistakes she made this week are wonderfully timed. If she, in her new role as a manager, can remember how she felt making her own mistakes she has a better chance of being more tolerant of others when they make theirs.

That said, mistakes should not be taken casually and become excuses for chronically underperforming behavior. But I don’t think this will happen with Meg. She is discerning and caring and will intuitively know with the lifeguards she will manage who is making mistakes and who is making excuses and act accordingly.

When Meg got home from work last night her mood was much improved. She had gone to her manager and told her about the mistakes she had made. She was relieved to tell her and her manager, an astute woman who has taken the time to get to know Meg (and thus promote her) instantly recognized the remorse Meg felt and put her battered mind at ease. She let Meg know, in no uncertain terms, she knew the mistake was not a reflection on the worker Meg is. Rather, she said that because of the way Meg insisted on coming to her about the mistake, that was a reflection on the person Meg is.

“I just felt so bad,” Meg told me as we were sitting together discussing the day’s events.

“What you were feeling my darling, that upset, that anger at yourself, that is what being conscientious feels like and it is good that you feel that, but you also need to learn to forgive yourself for your mistakes.”

Meg will learn, in time she will learn and no doubt she will learn to be a good manager too, and before she even begins she has already had her first lesson. For after yesterday, she will probably be a much more compassionate manager as well.

The Kids Behaved Better Than The Adults

quote

The request read…

“Hold all applause or any cheering until all graduates have received their diplomas. Every student graduating deserves our undivided attention and respect. Not every child has the good fortune of having lots of family and friends who can attend the ceremony. Though guests are there to support their individual graduate, the ceremony is for all graduates. Thus, we ask that you save your heartfelt applause and cheering until our principal presents the entire graduated class.”

Pretty clear don’t you think.

A month before the ceremony this statement was mailed home and an acknowledgement form stating parents and students read and understood the guidelines had to be signed and returned to school before a senior could receive a cap and gown. And then, in the program, the program that was handed out to every single one of the thousand people in attendance, this statement was written, in bold,

“Graduation is a milestone in the life of a student and his family. The dignity of the occasion can best be observed by refraining from whistling or applauding for any one student. Your congratulations can best be shown by applause for the entire class after the last graduate has been awarded his diploma.”

Finally, before the presentation of the diplomas, during the graduation ceremony itself, the principal made an impassioned plea to PLEASE honor and respect both the graduates and the solemness of the ceremony by following the request to not applause for individual graduates.

And do you think everyone could follow a simple, respectful rule?

Sadly, no.

Some groups stood and whistled, whooped it up and hollered and applauded for their graduate like they were at a football game and their team had just scored the winning touchdown.

Like they were the only ones in the building.

Like earnest requests for decorum just didn’t apply to them.

Like this event was theirs and theirs alone and they could act any way they wanted.

Now, I am not always Miss Follow Every Rule. I have been known to bend things occasionally. Like when we had the tree guy cut down the dead oak in our backyard without asking for permission like we are supposed to from the arborist that oversees the historic district in which we live. I was like, “Ask permission to cut down a dead tree?” That’s stupid.

Avoiding the red tape of city bureaucracy to expedite the removal of a potentially hazardous tree seemed to me the obvious thing to do. Besides, before I did it I applied the test I give to moments when I bend rules…

Does my not following this rule impact anybody else?

If the answer is no, then I sometimes bend.

But when you are sitting at a milestone event in the life of 109 young adults and 15-20% of your fellow attendees don’t feel like they need to follow the rules, that they don’t need to respect what has been asked of them, that they feel no need to protect the integrity of an event that isn’t even truly theirs, well, that really irritates me.

It really does.

At one point, after a particularly loud group of graduation revelers made complete asses of themselves, the principal paused the ceremony and asked again for refrain. But despite her plea, the outbursts continued.

I simply cannot imagine flat-out ignoring the request of the host of the event in which I am attending.

Moreover, the graduate whose name had just been called, this young person walking across the stage before a thousand people, this young person who had just worked their butt off to graduate from one of the Top Ten public high schools nationwide, I imagined them being mortified that their moment was marked by a show of complete disrespect, apparent to everyone in attendance, by their guests. Their people were completely ignoring the request made by the person whose hand they were about to shake and from whom they were receiving their diploma.

Is that how some people celebrate success? But acting like total failures?

And poor Officer Smiley, the school’s security guard that was in attendance. When I first spotted him I thought how nice it was that he was there to watch the students he has helped since Freshman year graduate. But the event turned into a night of work for him, going from group to group after an outburst. At one point I spotted him in the balcony with his arms up the air, facing a group with this, “what do we have to do to make you understand” look of exasperation written all over his face.

Really.

And I thought, there are people out there with absolutely no sense of respect. No discipline. No self-control. They apparently must feel entitled to do whatever they want the moment they want to do it with absolutely NO REGARD to anyone else and that really bothers me. Because we don’t live alone. We have to live together, as a society, and if we can’t follow the simplest rules of decorum, if we can’t hold our impulses any better than that, then, harshly put, we’re fucked.

So I am just hoping the kids are more evolved than quite a few of the adults. I hope they saw the trashy behavior of some and thought to themselves, “When it’s my turn to be in such a position I will not allow myself to behave in such a disgraceful way.” Maybe as intelligent and accomplished as these kids are, kids who have the discipline to make it through three and four AP classes a year will have the self-control to follow rules of etiquette and be respectful to others.

I think if they learned that one final lesson, on the night of their high school graduation, then they will have indeed completed a very valuable education.

It’s Graduation Day!

graduation day

Milestones.

Achievement.

Moving forward.

A day shared.

Happiness.

Just a few of the thoughts bouncing around my head that is oh so full of thoughts. But right now, today, I don’t feel like trying to grab the thoughts and putting them into any kind of order.

Nope.

I just want to enjoy the mental chaos of happy. The mental chaos of celebration.

Tomorrow maybe, later definitely, with the patience it takes to make thoughts gel into sentences I will return to my computer and tell a story.

But today, I am just tasting the sweetness that is today.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Escape

escape is reading

Books, they just kill me. The way you read them and they just make all the phonies in the world just go away. I love how books do that.

So, since it’s been about 100 hundred years since I was in high school, and since I have some time to kick around and all, I started rereading all those old books sitting there on my shelf. It’s been crazy, me reading all these books and stuff, but the part that gets me is I have really enjoyed myself. It’s been fun just hanging out with the old books.

It just about knocks me out too how much I forgot about them. I mean I remembered I liked them and all, but I couldn’t tell you why. I’m sort of glad I’m doing this, reading them that is. I think it’s good to get away from shooting the bull once in a while and be by myself and read. It’s a great escape and I mean, who doesn’t need to escape now and then for God’s sake.

Some really good interpretations of Escape are just a click away. It just kills me how good they are. 

On The Fun That Is Painting White Doors Red

my paint party

Anyone who has visited my blog before probably knows I like to do projects.

Yup.

Sure do.

If left alone for too long I will think of something to do, something to change. I will find a project to entertain myself.

So, when Neal and Ted recently went to New Orleans for a few days I thought it was the perfect opportunity for a little budget friendly change making.

See, I love red front doors.

I think red doors are inviting. They are friendly and they say, “I am here, come on in.”

When I stripped and repainted our house’s front door, there was only one color to paint it. Red of course…

red front door

So, you’ve probably guessed by now that this latest transformation involves paintin’ some white doors red because, well, red doors aren’t just for front doors anymore. No sir. No reason boring ole closet doors can’t come to life with some color. And, because I already had some interior red paint left over from another project, this idea was just perfect because I had everything I needed to make some oh hum doors fun, and to do it for my favorite decorating price, free.

Armed with my left over paint, a drop cloth and paint brush I got to work.

But first I took a before photo of the two doors I was painting. Very average looking white doors, yes…

Before Doors

But they are average looking no more after three coats of red paint…

After Doors Red

I love how just by using color, and not even a lot of it, and on an unexpected place such as a door, the look and feel of a room can really change. Not only did the red paint make the wall with the doors “pop”, but the red really provides a richer backdrop for the colors of everything around them…After Table

After Bedside Table

And since I am currently changing all the door knobs in the house from brass to black, I took this as an opportunity to change these knobs too. With a budget of $0 for this redo, and because these doors aren’t opened very often, rather than purchasing new black knobs, I used spray primer and black spray paint I had in my handy-dandy paint closet and gave this door hardware a free, fresh makeover.

So take a good look around your house. Do you have a door that is just begging to be more? Then go ahead and put some fun colored paint on it and stand back and enjoy the pop.

Paint, it is a wonderful and inexpensive way to bring a little change into your home and into your life. :-)