George Bernard Shaw said: "A life spent making mistakes is not only more honorable, but more useful than a life spent in doing nothing." That's an interesting thought, isn't it? Is it true? Can mistakes actually be honorable? I've been pondering on this lately, and I think the conclusion that I've come to is: it depends. Sometimes, a life spent making mistakes translates into a life of doing nothing and creates a great deal of pain for people connected to the individual. In other instances, mistakes become powerful gifts that hold powerful lessons that shape us and impact us in meaningful ways.
Researchers have found that by the time a person reaches the age of 60, enough "bad experiences" have occurred in a person's life to provide what we call "wisdom". Simply put, wisdom is the ability to know what is and what is not worth being upset about.
For example, being a child of the 80s, I definitely have one or two hairstyles that I would classify as a MISTAKE! My daughters, when looking at some of my childhood photos, have asked more than once "Mom, did you think your hair looked good in that picture?" I usually will laugh and answer that "yes....at the time I actually did think my hair looked good in the picture, but that I realize now it did not! However, with a couple more decades of "wisdom" in my pocket, I know that those embarrassing photos are not worth being upset about.
I wish that bad 80s hairstyles were the sum of mistakes made in my life. However, that is not the case. Those "bad experiences" would not yield enough wisdom to really serve me well. As I review my life inventory, I can find many more critical mistakes I have made that have led to more meaningful and useful wisdom. These include judging another person too harshly or continually trusting somebody who is not trustworthy. They include being determined to make something happen, when the best course was actually not the one I was so determined to pursue. They include risks I was too scared to take and putting energy into pursuits or relationships that really didn't matter. They include times I acted with recklessness and times when I was not compassionate....either with myself or somebody else. They include times that I was hurting and thereby ended up hurting somebody else. In recovery, we refer to this inventory of painful moments we walk back and review as the dark night of the soul. It is a necessary step in stripping away denial and facing the dark and secret side of the self. It's an opportunity to meet the shadows on the wall and to uncover the unbearable truths they conceal. It requires sorting through all of your feelings and experiences. It requires taking full responsibility for yourself. Without this step we are unable to harvest the important lessons our history holds. This is the process in which our mistakes transform into gifts. To leave this step undone, is to spend a lifetime doing nothing. This process teaches us a way of focusing on what we can take away from every experience and prepares us for profound, meaningful change. In recovery, we call these opportunities "wake-up calls."
Several years ago, on a warm August evening, I was sitting on my front porch by myself, listening to the sounds of my neighborhood....the lawn mowers, neighbor kids playing, the sound of skateboards on sidewalks. It had been a typical hot August day and I was feeling drained and exhausted. It had also been the day of my father's funeral. As I sat and contemplated on the events of the day, the past week, the previous years of my life and of my father's life, I was experiencing profound sorrow. My father had lived a life of mistakes that at the end, translated into a life spent doing nothing. It was painful to be in a relationship with my father. It hurt. As I contemplated on the wounds this created in my life, I asked myself a painful and poignant question: Based on the wounds I experienced as a child, and the behaviors that sprang from those wounds....I wonder what it's like to be in a relationship with me? More important, I wondered what it was like for my children to be my children. That led to some honest conversations with each of my kids, which had mixed reviews. I learned that I hold back. That they feel loved, yet they also had experienced my being guarded, protecting myself so that I don't get hurt....which is a technique I learned as a young child. I learned that they love me and they know I love them, but they also feel when I hold back. This wasn't something I intended to do with my children. Intellectually I know I am an adult, but intellect wasn't enough to move me out of childhood wounds, beliefs or behaviors. I am grateful they had the courage to be open and lovingly honest. (We all have room for improvement, right?) After my conversations with my girls, I went to my husband and had a similar conversation with him. The truth about myself emerged in a deep way and brought with it profound resolve. Nothing brings focus like pain.
It was then that the light began to dawn over this vast reservoir of love deep within me that was layered over by wounds of the past. I had a whole new appreciation for how precious pain is. I began to see that only by experiencing the pain could I begin to create a life of my own choosing. Mistakes of the past served as the content for wisdom going forward. That was a wake-up call that brought me to a deeper understanding of who I am and how I am and gave me options for being different. The gifts that came from the difficult conversations are precious to me. I am grateful I was able to begin the process of changing the mistakes I was making and thereby deepening the relationships I have. Since that day, the wake-up calls continue and the process of creating a life of my choosing is never ending. I don't know that answering the wake-up calls has gotten easier. What I do know is that to do so yields rich rewards.
"The universe doesn't like secrets.
It conspires to reveal the truth, to lead us to it."
--Lisa Unger.
