I saw this shovel hanging on a sapling while walking the trail along the brook behind my house. It was in the early afternoon after the first snow. I was fascinated by how the load it was carrying couldn't seem to slip all the way off as it was warmed by the sun. I posted the picture with this:
Afternoon sunbeams, shovel in a tree.
Snow slides slowly, not quite free.
The next day I had an osteopathic treatment and then, as often happens, wrote a new poem inspired by some of what surfaced during and after my session. I wondered if I had a picture to pair it with and, as I looked through my photos, it became clear this is a perfect fit.
Make No Mistake
I recently realized
that I’ve lived just about all of my life
trying to not make any mistakes.
The definition of a mistake was nebulous,
didn’t come from me,
involved fear and threat.
This has been quite a revelation.
I mean, really?
I spend all my working days teaching children
that it’s okay to stumble,
that those are the times when we learn the most.
They know I accept them right where they are,
will stand by them as they recover from a blunder,
will walk with them as they move ahead.
And, in truth,
I have lived that
on some level within, as well.
But way, way, way deep down inside
the drive to make no mistake
has been a strong and swift undercurrent
with a surreptitious potency.
It made me quick to accept responsibility
whenever anything went wrong.
For so very long I assumed that the
‘push aways’ were always totally my fault.
I had this weird double standard
where I understood other people’s
struggles so easily and could
be there to support and help.
Yet, mine were because
I must have made a mistake
somewhere along the way
and I deserved to hurt.
Make no mistake?
Humanly impossible!
And so now I must remember to
be gentle with my self
as I recover and move ahead.
I will gratefully continue to receive,
allow caring and healing
to dilute and diffuse,
as the burdens I lugged for so long
continue to slip away.
Message to self:
make no mistake -
I am perfectly human,
just like anyone else.
I recently realized
that I’ve lived just about all of my life
trying to not make any mistakes.
The definition of a mistake was nebulous,
didn’t come from me,
involved fear and threat.
This has been quite a revelation.
I mean, really?
I spend all my working days teaching children
that it’s okay to stumble,
that those are the times when we learn the most.
They know I accept them right where they are,
will stand by them as they recover from a blunder,
will walk with them as they move ahead.
And, in truth,
I have lived that
on some level within, as well.
But way, way, way deep down inside
the drive to make no mistake
has been a strong and swift undercurrent
with a surreptitious potency.
It made me quick to accept responsibility
whenever anything went wrong.
For so very long I assumed that the
‘push aways’ were always totally my fault.
I had this weird double standard
where I understood other people’s
struggles so easily and could
be there to support and help.
Yet, mine were because
I must have made a mistake
somewhere along the way
and I deserved to hurt.
Make no mistake?
Humanly impossible!
And so now I must remember to
be gentle with my self
as I recover and move ahead.
I will gratefully continue to receive,
allow caring and healing
to dilute and diffuse,
as the burdens I lugged for so long
continue to slip away.
Message to self:
make no mistake -
I am perfectly human,
just like anyone else.
Sarah Carlson
December 12, 2017
I can certainly relate to this!!!
ReplyDeleteHow true and one I can also clearly relate to. Thank you for awakening me once more to our vulnerable human quality of imperfection. Truly to celebrate!
ReplyDelete