I made a mistake… ?

Rather listen than read? Here you go:

One morning I awoke at 2:30 am, certain I had messed something up. Something specific.

I had miscalculated, misspoke, and as a result, let people down.

My mind meditated on a well-worn mantra: “I messed up. I messed up. I messed up. Oh god. I messed up.”

Behind this conscious thought was a quieter knowing. “I’m bad. I’m bad. I’m bad.”

Bad can mean “evil” to some people or “rotten” or “dangerous.” To me it means “not-worthy-to-be-loved.”

Rather than lie there, torturing myself, I dragged myself to the living room with my journal and pen. As Byron Katie says, “All war belongs on paper.” So I began to write.

At first I just wrote what I was thinking, “I suck. I f****d up.”

Then a question arose.

“What does it mean, exactly, to ‘make a mistake’?”

“What,” I wondered, “even is a mistake?”

I could not find an answer, and in that emptiness, the following poem came forth.

No Mistakes

It can only ever be true that we are each doing our best.
We can do no more than that and no less.

The mind tries to suggest otherwise:
“Could have. Should have. Knew better, etc.”

But this makes no sense.
If we could have, we would have.
If we should have, we would have.
If we really knew better, we’d have done things differently.

The conscious mind is such an infinitesimal sliver of reality,
and yet it thinks it’s in charge.

It believes that if it just works hard enough,
if it controls the body enough
and the world enough,
it can have its way.

It cannot relent because it also believes
‘its way’ is the only way to be happy.

So the thinking mind works desperately hard
on our behalf
never realizing it’s this desperation,
this insistence on a lack-which-must-be-overcome,
that is the only thing keeping us from peace.

To forgive oneself, then,
for whatever is happening
or whatever has happened,
is a trust fall into self-respect.

Self-forgiveness is the humility to let go
into something so much greater
than the mind could ever perceive.

To forgive oneself and forgive each other
no matter what
is to admit we are all held in an infinite tapestry,
a never-ending dance,
an emerging dream.

Like a dream, reality is forever morphing
into the unexpected, the rearranged, and the familiar yet strange.

It brings joy and sorrow,
pleasantness and disgust,
stability and chaos.
It opens doors and slams them shut.
It shows the way and then it turns out the light.

In any moment that we believe that something is amiss,
“I messed up,” or “life did,” or “someone else let me down.”

We have simply forgotten that we know nothing at all,
that life is not to be understood,
only to be lived.

I recorded an exploration for those moments when you’re lying awake at 2:30am convinced you’ve messed up. It’s one of my favorites yet — so if you’ve never tried one of the explorations, this is a great place to start.