Brief

Like most people, I'm mostly wrong. I operate under the assumption that if I'm lucky I'm right 25% of time, pretty close another 25%, not terribly wrong 25% more, and holy hell how did you come up with that for the biggest 25%. I'm not really a fan of the waning move-fast-and-break-things mantra, but I know I have to be okay with getting things wrong.

A Great Weakness

I'm someone who's nature it is to be terrified of being wrong. There are a few roots to that tree. There's base embarrassment, it's not fun when you think you're shining bright to have someone or something rub the glow off.

There's also an anxiety associated to wasting other's time. I've always been very aware that my mistakes not only cost me, but those who are traveling with me. I don't enjoy misspent effort when it's mine; doubly so when it's the effort of others.

Mostly though, I think this fear of being wrong is driven by my response to being told I'm right. A small kudos will power me for weeks on end, but if I miss an installment suddenly the pillars of my confidence will teeter; threating full implosion. Like many people, I suspect, much of my identity has been crafted from the pats on the back, the nods, the "you're good at this"-es.

The bad part of building so heavily on the valuation of others is that there's not much underlayment that I have set myself. When the others aren't there, or aren't paying attention, it's all too easy to look down through that hollow core of self and see the imminent collapse.

Holding my own hand

The lesson I will forever need to relearn, is that I can set the floor of me. That doesn't change what I know or what I can do; it changes how I value my contribution to the things I undertake.

There are a plethora of saws about helping hands and the power of community, but to get better at being okay with mistakes takes my own hand pulling me upwards. I need to understand that my ability is always there, even when I go left instead of right. It's my ability that will get me where I need to go. That I can is the the amazing thing, not that I'm right.

Keeping a List

The benefit of aging is that the number of wrong turns is greater. As a person who has turned off the wrong breaker while doing electrical work, I know full well the jittery snap of 120V AC convulsing my arm.

I know that despite any bad feeling in the moment, I will be able to pick up and put together a new path once I give myself the breath I need to focus and try again.

It's not important that I remember the exact detail of each flailing, it's important that I remember that I can get where I want to even when I get lost for a bit. It's more important that the list of mistakes I make documents the ways I got past my failings, noting briefly what went awry.

QOTD

“I'm not playing a role. I'm being myself, whatever the hell that is.” ― Bea Arthur