"It's Not Like You Killed My Cat"

I made a faux pas this morning and may have unintentionally insulted someone. Mind you, it was not a grievous offense, but nonetheless a question I asked inadvertently implied disregard for someone's artistry. I quickly course-corrected by sending an apology, owning my ignorance, and clarifying what I had meant in the first place.

Not surprisingly, my nervous system spiked into high gear - adrenaline, heat, worry. I told Mani about it and they said, "Go read the Rattle Poem of the Day I just emailed you." Which I did. It's called "Anxiety Charts" by Megan Waring, and it was indeed the perfect antidote to my remorse.

This is one of the many reasons I give thanks for poets and writers of all kinds every day, for the reminders that we are all human, messy, and (one hopes) learning how to relate in honest and healthy ways to ourselves and each other as we go. I had not planned to write about that this morning, but in the spirit of showing up, that's what's on my mind in this moment. Now, the key is not to beat myself up.

For quite a while now -- maybe a couple of years -- I've had a title in my head: "It's Not Like You Killed My Cat." I've thought about writing a blog post or essay with this title, which is actually a verbatim quote from a dear friend. She said it to me on the phone once, when I was over-apologizing for something that may not have been ideal but ultimately also wasn't that big of a deal (and, like today's mishap, was a result of not knowing better).

The thing with making mistakes is that sometimes, we really DON'T know better. What's essential, I have learned and continue to learn apparently, is to do better once you DO know better. Apologies without changed behavior are hollow. But that doesn't mean you will get it all at once and never make a mistake again. You (meaning: I) will continue to make new mistakes! Isn't this human thing a trip? (Hashtag OY.)

One changed behavior part of this equation I continue to practice is recognizing WHEN TO ASK A QUESTION. Sometimes, if I'm not sure how something works and what the "right" way to go is, I'll default to trying to figure it all out by myself in my own head. It does not always occur to me to actually reach out to another person to say, "Hey! I am unclear about this." Or, "Would you be willing to help me understand something?"

One thing I know for sure is that being hard on myself when I do misstep does nothing at all to address whatever happened, and only drives deeper the very neural patterning I'm working to reroute. In the case with my friend before, and again today, I did not kill anybody's cat. I simply made a mistake, for which I then apologized. If I were on the other side of the table and YOU made a mistake and subsequently apologized to me -- as well as showed over time a true commitment to changing whatever the behavior is that the mistake was tied to -- I would not hold a grudge and I certainly would not want you to keep apologizing.

This is complex terrain. The other thing that makes me think about is slowing down. If you are walking on unfamiliar ground, i.e. not stuck in one place, trying new things, meeting new people, taking risks, you are going to trip over some rocks and roots. You might even trip and bump into someone else when you do. Taking it slow, with plenty of water and snack breaks and check-ins with yourself and your fellow travelers, seems like some pretty good wisdom to me.

So, I did not kill anyone's cat today. Whether the person accepts my apology and is open to continuing where we left off - that is up to them, and I will respect whatever choice they make. For my part - I will take this as yet another moment to practice both clear and right speech and action AND softening towards my imperfect self. Fun!

May these words find you exploring that sweet spot where accountability and compassion kiss.

p.s. I shared this with the friend who said the thing about the cat. She did not remember saying it! If you happen to be reading this and are still perseverating over something you said or did in the past that you already apologized for, let this post be your permission slip and/or gentle invitation to Let That Shit Go already. Bygones really do get to be bygones - imagine that.

p.p.s. All is well with the original person. I learned some new things that helped me understand where they'd been coming from, and how a question I had asked had alarmed them due to lack of context. Communication for the win!