I can, and do, admit when I'm wrong.
I can, and do, say I'm sorry.
I can, and do, acknowledge that I failed to complete something I said I would do.
Mea culpa and I know each other well.
It's not fun to be wrong.
I don't enjoy hurting or disappointing someone (it's never intentional).
Failure makes me feel small, inadequate and incompetent.
Taking responsibility for something is difficult, but the good thing about pruning is that growth, and even fruit, follow.
It's another thing entirely when you feel the cold wind of being ignored or left in the dark.
It hurts when it appears that you, or your efforts, don't matter.
In time I will process and let go of feeling isolated and marginalized. Today the sting of collective arrows have laid me low. It's no wonder that every part of me hurts.
5 comments:
I'm so sorry Anne! I wish I could be there to give you a (gentle) hug. Know that I think you're fabulous - & that I actually secretly looked at Cumberland to see if they had any openings for Dr. M :)
((Anne)) a gentle hug from me to you, too. Sorry for the stings. May you balance the challenge of facing into "failure" or "let down" or what-ever, with all the other times you meet the needs and challenges of life. It's a hard reality that we humans are "just good enough" which is good enough, but also means we sometimes let others down.
Hugs Anne.
(((Anne))) I'm sorry.
The real gift is in being able to say we were wrong and to own up and apologize. So many people can't do that well. Hoping the sting lessens and that you know that it certainly does not define you. Hugs.
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