MISTAKES WERE MADE . . .

Back in the day of teaching composition to college freshmen, I was obliged to acquaint the students with certain rules that would keep them from falling a letter grade or two or three below what their ideas merited. One of those rules was "Passive voice should not be used."

I loved that way of expressing it--using the very mistake that students should avoid.

Why not just say, "Avoid passive voice"?

Ah, well, another example of Nobody's Perfect, and Mistakes Will Be Made.

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Another rule--this time from my family's collective wisdom--was "Experience is the best teacher."

That seemed to be a nice corollary to "Mistakes will be made." The obvious connection is that we benefit from the experience (of making a mistake) by learning from the mistake.

However! One of my favorite professors said, "People don't learn from their mistakes." He was serious. But, was he correct in his thinking? Sad to say, my experience of teaching freshman composition showed he was indeed on the right track. Very few students learned from their mistakes by changing their writing habits. They wrote because that was the assignment; they did the least they could do for a passing grade (C-, which was the lowest acceptable grade to pass the course); and they avoided their prior transgressions, often while committing new ones.

I hasten to add that I have, from time to time, learned something from my mistakes. The stumbling block is to remember what the prior mistake was, how it occurred, and what I can do to avoid that particular pitfall this time. (The operative word here is remember.)

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Enough ancient history.

Let's get back to Mistakes, Making Of..

From what I can glean in reading and listening, many people seem to think that life is about damage control. After a mistake is made, the thinking goes like this:

   - What can we do now?
   - How can we cover this up?
   - Who can we blame?
   - How can this be turned to our advantage?

Does anybody ever ask: What can we learn?

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I'm inclined to think there are very few true "mistakes" in life. What looks like a wrong turn in thinking or in the execution of an idea may be a "happy accident."

Consider composers, painters, poets, novelists; scientists; business people; quilters, photographers . . . . (You can come up with your own list; mine would take up the space of two or three of these posts.)

As far back as you can go, there was some practitioner of an art or craft, some scientist or entrepreneur, who is remembered for her/his "new" way of doing things.

The hide-bound traditionalist says, these are mistakes. Pure and simple. Not the way we do things, old chap.

The unconventional thinker says, the new ways of doing things could be called "happy accidents," or even "inspired accidents." Did the new practice come out of making a mistake that could be seen by the mistake-maker as simply another way of looking at a problem? (Radical thought there.)

Perhaps the mistake-maker, so-called, had a moment of insight into the everyday, the ordinary, that made it at once new, extraordinary.

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Dante's Inferno detailed "nine concentric circles of torment," otherwise known as Hell. I suspect one of those levels includes people who like to point out other people's mistakes and who, themselves, are convinced they never make mistakes. Perhaps in the same level we can include all the people who try to cover up what has happened or to blame others for one's own sins. (The question is: Can anyone escape this punishment?)

I'd like to close with another cliche--also learned from my extended family's collective wisdom: "Live and let live." 

Yes, mistakes will be made . . . by me, by you, by people we (erroneously) think are perfect.

Do we need to point them out? Only if they impact the life and liberty of someone who can't speak up about it.

Do we actually need to do anything at all about other people's mistakes? Maybe observe and then try to avoid that particular misstep. Not dwell on what happened to someone else. And if we're the one who got the brunt of the mistake, try to forgive.

If it's my own mistake, try to forgive myself and move on. Learn something from what I did wrong. And seek forgiveness if I've wronged another person.

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Maybe I should've warned you that this was going to be a difficult topic. If my thinking was wrong, please forgive me. (Thank you.)

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SYNONYMS FOR MISTAKES:

     BLOOPERS - ERRORS - FLUBS - GAFFES - OUTTAKES - GOOFUPS

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SPRING - DAY 2

March here in the Northeast Corner didn't come in like a lion, nor did it seem especially lamb-like. It just sort of crept in and stayed.

Spring, in similar fashion, didn't make a big whoop-de-doo about her arrival--daytime temps ranged in the 40s, and nighttime temps in the 30s didn't make any difference to the roads. We've had a couple of light rains, but not enough to call it a rainy day. Grass isn't any greener--only that left-over green of winter.

Maybe I'm impatient--after all, this is only Day 2 of the new season. I didn't expect instant warm breezes, flowers popping up in full bloom, grass ready to mow.

Redbud - one of the earliest
to bloom in my corner

But I have seen some lovely encouraging seasonal changes.

Sunday on the way home from church two robins raced across the bows of my SUV and behind them a red-winged blackbird came close enough to wink at me. (Well, a little exaggeration there. It was pretty close, though.)

My resurrection lilies are up. Stems are about five inches high and the bed spreads every year. Should be dozens of flowers this year.

A friend who lives outside of town told me her crocuses are up. But I haven't seen my neighbor's daffodils that always burst into golden glory early in the season. I check on them every day.

Friends in Fort Wayne report their neighbors are cleaning and putting away the snow blowers. Getting out lawn mowing equipment. Hmm. Wonder if they know something the rest of us don't?

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I still love Mark Twain's tongue-in-cheek comment on Spring weather. He's probably right!

Enjoy your segue into Spring!

ANTICIPATION . . .

. . . it's makin' me late,
      and keepin' me waitin'

Carly Simon wrote the song and sang, played, and recorded it in the '70s.

We're always anticipating something. I know, I know, I'm sticking my neck out here and that's a dangerous position to be in, but I do think I can say "we," meaning the vast majority of us, are always anticipating. 

Right now, for those of us who live in the cold, cold northlands, it's Spring we anticipate. I should've counted the number of people who said, "I'm SO over this winter." But it was a goodly number, and even if you didn't say it, you may have thought it. 

So, we anticipate a change in seasons. The warmth and increased sunshine will be most welcome. Then the bushes and trees start to get into the act and we have pollen. Pollen I don't love so much. In fact, not at all. I walk around with a box of tissues under my arm (the big box) and my inhaler is ever by my side.

That's when I anticipate a change in the spring season--get to the later part, I want to say. Let's have some flowers and real leaves and less pollen. How about a little rain to wash the air clean? Then we get rain, sometimes day after day after day of rain, making big puddles at the bottom of my driveway and filling all the shallow spots on the roads.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Anticipating Spring--yes!

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If it isn't a new/different season, then it could be a new baby, or a wedding, or a new friendship. People are important to us, whether near or far away; they may be what brings a smile to our lips when the incessant rain gets us down. (Sorry, I didn't mean to mention that again.) We anticipate hearing their voices, reading their letters and cards, celebrating their birthdays and other special events (even if we can't attend in person). 

Maybe it's a trip--vacation, cruise, going a place we've never been before. 

I suspect your calendar--like mine--is dotted with names of those celebrating something big--birthday, wedding, graduation, due date for the latest baby. Every time I look at those little boxes of info, I think of that person and that event. Often I think back to a birth--two of my children have birthdays in March, so there's a bunch of thinking-back going on here.
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My church celebrates the season of Lent--a time of reflection on the life of Christ and on our own lives. Lent is a penitential season, when we dedicate ourselves to prayer and make an effort to forgive and ask to be forgiven. It may also include fasting and self-denial, depending on the church. (This is a permanent part of our tradition, but underscored during Lent.) And throughout the season of Lent, we anticipate the joy of Easter at the end of this time.

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There's always something coming along. When I go to bed at night, I anticipate getting up in the morning to a pot of coffee, a gluten-free cookie, and an hour spent writing in my journal. This is a time of communing with myself--reflecting on days past, planning the day I'm in, and looking at what's possibly on the calendar for the next few days.

Anticipation is almost but not quite the direct opposite of living in the moment. So long as I don't always live in the future, instead of steeping myself in this moment's gift, I'm fine. The future, like the past, isn't available. 

If we keep perspective about what's to come--or what we hope is to come--we free ourselves up for enjoyment of this moment in time. 

Carly Simon ends her song this way:

     "These are the good old days...."

Why not?

TAKING A DAY OFF


[Life being what it is, and Winter being its usual self up here in the north country of Indiana, I've come to an impasse--the effort to stay warm, be healthy, and keep up with what Winter demands have taken over all the brain cells that usually come up with something to celebrate, or develop into a mild rant, or give you something to think about, maybe even inspire you.

The only cure I've ever come up with for this situation is to let it be. Let the demands of Winter occupy brain room. For the body, keep warm, eat lots, drink plenty of fluids, rest when needed. When I remember to do so, I remind myself that "this, too, shall pass."]


Thursday's Child is taking a day off--which means a week off--to catch up with herself.

Hope you're either enjoying the winter weather, or taking care of yourself if you've succumbed to cold/flu/the blahs.

Here's an inspirational thought for us in the Season-Before-Spring: