Occasionally my mind wakes me up to work on a few things. Sometimes it is working out a thought or idea, to follow the thought strings and see where they go. On some occasions the night thoughts turn to projects that need to be completed and have stumped me for a time. But in some moments, though rare, my mind wakes me up to dwell on past mistakes. This is the least favorite wake up call.
This morning was one of those moments. The reflections were of past mistakes, errors in judgment, lapses in emotional honesty, moral breakdowns. I am not sure why this is a part of my nature. Maybe it is simply a part of the human condition. My mind would skitter and jump from one mistake to another, then dwell on a single incident for a time, bubbling up the regret, the angst, the embarrassment, the shame all over again.
And the moments used the entire library of my life for resource. Stupid stunts as a kid, when I embarrassed my parents. Hard headed teenage decisions that could have changed the shape and scope of my future (and probably did at some level). And adult mistakes that harmed not only me, but those around me, those closest to me. These thoughts were not time sequential, just lined up one after another in random order to bring their special form of pain.
We all have the knack for blaming others for these mistakes.
He started it
I didn't know...
No one was looking..
It is not my fault..
But in these night wonderings, in the still of the house, it comes back to me. No matter how I turn the little object in my hand it is a small mirror showing only my face. It is a moment of emotional clarity. These reflected memories were all on me. They were my fault.
So other than lose sleep, and spend a lot of anxiety about events I can't change, what do I do with them? Even the ones that are recent I can't alter. The events occurred, I failed, the world keeps spinning. So now what?
Then when it seems that the conclusion in my own head is that I am, in general, a failure. I reach to my right and touch someone who has seen most of these mistakes, taken the brunt of most of them...and stayed with me. My bride still sends me texts telling me she loves me. Snapshots start floating by of three kids who also saw most of these failures and call me often and tell me they love me, even the add-on kids-in-law tell me they love me and invite me to dinner and on trips and into their homes. Then there is my six-pack, Eli and Phoebe, Isaac and Abby, Lincoln and Lola, who all laugh and climb on me. They don't know all the mistakes, but I think they are responding to someone they know loves them, will do anything for them. Somewhere this crowd of 13 have decided that there is something of value in this flawed, stupid, egotistical, brain numb knucklehead. The mistakes become secondary.
Here is my big conclusion. Whatever knowledge, or insight, or wisdom I have has come, not from my training or mental intellect, or innate ability, but from my mistakes. The mistakes are woven into the very fabric of who I am. The greatest crime I can commit is to see the brown eyes of my bride well up with tears of hurt or shame or disappointment. The same trickles all the down to the littlest ones. I cannot bear to bring them sorryow through my actions. But past mistakes slow the making of new mistakes.
Then on a deeper level, I realize that the Creator has given me the chance to use my mistakes, not bear the burden of them. He knew what he was creating when He formed me. And He formed me flawed for a reason. The reason is that He knew that whatever help I could lend to my little community would be out of the wisdom and pain of my mistakes. I do not understand this wisdom He possesses, but I trust it.
Godspeed to the night wanderers. The journey comes with both stumbles and insight, usually at the same time.
Don
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