I tell my students to avoid judging themselves, or others, during their practice. After the bulk of the work is done, I guide everyone to the back of the mat to close their eyes and breathe. I ask them to think about their intentions and to seal themselves with grace and gratitude for what they can do... because each day is a different day in our lives and in our asana practice.
Then I get in my car, travel home, and I can't practice what I preach. I start looking at things I shouldn't have said, shouldn't have done, or I consider the same of other people- how they're messing up, how they're in for a rude awakening after making certain decisions, etc. When enclosed in the sanctuary space of the yoga studio, all the wisdom in the world is clearer than it is when I have to go back to my daily life.
How hypocritical of me. I pick on certain groups of Christians for doing the same thing... for talking all about Sweet Jesus and how He loves everyone and wants us to take care of each other... and then those same Jesus-loving, Gd-fearing people go home and steal from their parents, cuss people out on the road, turn their backs on their flesh and blood. I act so similarly to these people within my own sets of beliefs (save only that I'm not badgering anyone to specifically agree with me... just not walking my talk all the time).
I just read this article in Body+Soul entitled "The Magic of Mistakes," concerning our attitudes about screwing up. It describes the traps we set for ourselves when we have an end-all perspective on our own mistakes or those of others. As an example, an editor sent an email of her first scribbled edition of a manuscript to the writer of the work rather than another editor with a simple slip on the keyboard. She simply hit the wrong button and had never intended the writer to see these harsher comments. The editor wrote a heartfelt apology, but the writer retaliated with blind fury. The editor tried one more time to apologize, but no good came from her efforts. In this case, the article explains that she trapped herself in this self-defining mode rather than see the mistake for what it was: a slip on the keyboard. She had to stop apologizing and start realizing that her accident was not malicious, not an attack. She would eventually choose to see the mistake for what it was and learn to be more careful rather than redefine herself as a hurtful, mean person.
I know I've been caught in that trap of feeling guilty for something that was innocent. I don't take my own mistakes very well. One of the authors quoted in this article, Joseph Hallinan, describes my opinion better than I can: Those who tend to see intelligence as fixed have a much harder time acknowledging and dealing with mistakes. They see it as a chink in their intellectual armor. And that's me alright. I have no compassion for my limitations. This inevitably causes me to express some frustration for people who have found a healthy way to be kind to themselves about their mishaps. I grapple with trying to value my mistakes as lessons to better myself... that probably sounds worn out and trite, but I have a feeling it's less destructive to myself and my relationships to find opportunities for growth in the midst of my failures as well as see mistakes of others as their right to grow and develop, too.
The article also discussed this idea of taking credit for one's part in an argument. This is probably the one aspect of making mistakes that I practice actively. I am usually willing to see what part I play in aggravating certain circumstances. I may not do it immediately after the disagreement, but given enough time, I can return to an argument and tell my partner in crime that I can see where I went wrong. This frequently helps the other person open up to his or her shortcomings and then the argument is readily settled. This is harder with people who cannot do them same... people with whom you openly admit your faults... and they just let you and leave you there relieving themselves of responsibility for their choices. The article does admit that, well, life's just like that and not everyone is ready to be as honest as all that (Though the editor apologized twice, the write would hear none of it). They might be stuck in that trap of self-defining guilt (I did something stupid, therefor I am stupid) and are more unwilling to come forward with their part in the debacle. I'm not sure how I'm able to skip to this part... I guess my self-loathing is lodged deep enough that I can keep it as my own problem and try my best not to burden my loved ones.
The deadliest snare is that of the "should of" philosophy. When we look back on a mistake and reinforce our struggles with the first two traps above by reprimanding ourselves. We should have seen it coming. The example in the article tells of a woman who married a man with a very public history of cheating. She figured with public humiliation like that, he'd think twice before doing it again. Sadly, she was wrong, and you know how that story ends. Still, she succumbed to the tossing and turning of how she should have known better... when really, how can you? Some people really do have the fortitude to change. It was her mistake to make and she really couldn't have know if it was a mistake until she tried. We can cut ourselves out of several opportunities working for our betterment in the future if we remain haunted by our inability to see into the future.
I'm trying to think of a choice I made that could have turned out badly but then turned out for the best. It's hard to think backwards like this since those things turned out well... maybe the yoga teacher training could have been one of those mistakes. I could have performed poorly and not been hired to teach... or worse, I could have done well and then still failed to get a job offer. Or it could have been a horrible experience altogether. It's a lot of money, too, for a big letdown. Instead, I did pretty well, had a decent time, and ultimately it led me to an active work experience at a wonderful studio where I genuinely enjoy the work, the people, the place.
It's a hard balance to strike. It's easier to swing the penduluum the other way and care too little about making mistakes letting them slide by with no consequence or reflection. I guess I'll make like a kid taking the steep stairs at Grandma's one and a time for fear of falling down to his/her untimely death...
Most things in life come back to Frasier... I'm reminded of something Martin said: You know, as you get older, it's not the failures that you regret or the times you made an ass of yourself... it's the times you never tried... when you just lost your nerve.
(Well, things didn't work so well for the people in the episode, but that's another entry for another day...)
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