Skip to main content

Being Wrong Is Hard To Do

I am going to admit something once, that I will probably never admit again.  This weekend I discovered that I may have been wrong.  Now, I'm not admitting complete wrongness.  But there may have been a point or two that I didn't fully understand, comprehend or anticipate.

Unfortunately the thing that I may have been less than right about is private to someone else, and so I won't divulge the details here.  But I will say that I have been humbled and reminded that it is impossible for anyone to really understand the motives and reasoning of someone else until you see things from their perspective.  Sadly, it becomes harder and harder for us to be able to see things from others' point of view.

The disconnect that we all experience is discovered in the waitress who doesn't take the time to look at you when she hands you your change because she is too preoccupied with the buzzing timer ringing that someone else's order is ready. It's found in the moments where we are too absorbed the media flashes about destruction on the other side of the planet to notice that things are falling apart at home.  It breeds behind computer monitors,  smart phones, self-check lines and Bluetooth headsets.

We all (myself included) have become a race of beings who are so consumed with our own lives that we become incapable of being able to see anyone else for the treasure, trash or trouble that they really are.  We fool ourselves into thinking that we can save those who won't work to save themselves; that we need to be saved by someone bigger or stronger than we are; and that we know all of the answers to lead to not only our own happiness, but also that we know all the answers for everyone else.

But to return to my original sentiment, I have discovered that I can be wrong and have been on occasion.  And I suppose that is ok, because without being wrong this time and learning from my error - how could I possibly be right the next time?

Currently Reading:

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Don't Wait

I awoke Friday morning to a message from someone whose name was only vaguely familiar. Laying in bed, scrolling through Facebook on my cell phone, I opened the message. It was a quick note from a woman who was good friends with a woman who I have been close to for over a decade. I read it, and reeled with shock. My friend, a woman who had been with me through the best and worst of times, is gone. Taken from this life because of a driver who didn't stop at a stop sign on a country road. "Accidents happen," many say. It's true, but it isn't right. We never know when our time is going to be up. Today might be your last day, or mine. There's no way of predicting what will happen tomorrow... this evening... fifteen minutes from now. There are many tragedies stemming from this simple accident. First, a mother with fierce love of her two teenage children was stolen from them. A woman who was a pillar of support for so many has fallen from their list of who to cal...

Proofing.

The first printed copy of A Giraffe in the Room has arrived in my office. The giant "Proof" stamp is wonderful to see, and I am looking forward to picking through the pages to make sure that the novelette is ready to be released commercially. Every time writing takes a step forward - whether it is the completion of a piece, reading through editing mark ups for the first time, or getting a print proof in the mail, it is a wonderful feeling. I hope that everyone who finds their passion gets the chance to feel the pride of taking a step forward.  I will say that at under 50 pages, I think A Giraffe in the Room looks a little bit like a pamphlet that someone would hand you through the open crack of your screen door as they try to tell you about the Good News. Other than the brevity of the thing (it is a novelette, after all), I'm very pleased with the little bit of it that I've had a chance to look over. I hope to comb over it this week, and estimate that copies ...

Missing Deadlines

Life - not only is it the final frontier, but sometimes it is also a whirlwind. These days, I feel an awful lot like Toto in the Wizard of Oz. It is like I've been shoved in a basket and taken through the tornado to a land that looks like nothing I have ever seen before. My husband and I made the difficult decision to close down our retail store and move the whole business back home. That has translated into weeks (or months?) of sorting, selling, packing and storing everything that the business has owned. Right now, there is a mountain of inventory, paperclips, toddler-work-toys and extension cords rising up from the floor of my living room. I have rehomed a fraction of the mountain in the last two weeks, and I hope that eventually I will muster up the courage and energy I need to tackle the rest of it. Add to that weeks upon weeks of birthdays, holidays, the start of summer... and writing has gotten pushed far down the list of priorities. Not that I'd be able to writ...