I messed up today.
Minutes after I’d forced myself out of bed, shuffled to the couch and collapsed upon it, my phone buzzed: are you here?
Amidst fighting a cold that insists on invading my lungs, just getting back into town and tending to my children yesterday, I had forgotten that I’d scheduled a private session for a client and her mother this morning.
I’d scheduled a reminder on my phone for ‘1 day before,’ but that got lost in a succession of texts and news updates while conversing with my mother over coffee. I don’t usually teach on weekends, because, after the weekday schedule I maintain, my body demands rest. But, I’d made an exception and in that exception, I’d forgotten about it.
I’m ill; I would have cancelled anyway, but the idea that two people had rearranged their schedule, driven all the way up to the clinic on a Saturday and I was a no show, made me sick to my stomach.
I called her immediately. I apologized profusely and offered a free private session to make up for the mishap. She was understanding and told me to feel better. But, that didn’t suffice; I texted her and apologized again right when we hung up the phone.
It’s been eating me up all day.
Why can’t I let it go? Why can’t I just say: hey look, I made a mistake. It’s unfortunate, but she’ll get a free private out of it. What’s done is done. Move on.
That’s not how I work. I circle around and around the same block of regret wondering how I could have done things differently. I do that until I run myself over enough times I turn to mush, and then my belly gets upset and I crave something sweet even though I have no appetite.
All the while, it’s peaceful outside of my skin.
The breeze gently rocks the umbrella from side-to-side, and I get a lovely text from my mom saying how much it meant to her that we came to visit. In that moment, I awaken and I remember one of the most valuable nuggets of life wisdom:
Everything has a reason for happening.
Maybe my mistake this morning gave my clients an opportunity to eat at a new restaurant, or get a pedicure, or spend time with each other that they wouldn’t otherwise spend.
The mistakes we make, create space for life to take place and lead us (and others) to where we’re really supposed to be in that moment and where we’re meant to go next.
Our fate is always in the making: constructed of one mistake after the next, and in between those mistakes, we ask for forgiveness, we forgive others when they ask for it (and even when they don’t), and we forgive ourselves and try not to make the same mistake twice.
I’m going to set two reminders on my phone from now on. ~Rebecca