Please tell me where to be, when to be there, and what to do. I will gladly do that for you. If not, spontaneously call me and hey let's go do that right now! Awesome!
Ask me to coordinate something or, have mercy, give you a where, when, and what? Please don't. We'll both be happier if you don't.
I only learned how terrible I am at scheduling after being hired for a job where 70% of my workload is event coordination. How I've managed to muddle through is in large part thanks to those around me, I'm sure.
Let me give you an example.
I committed to giving a presentation in the community at 7pm on the 20th of March at the local bookstore. I knew about this date, time, and location two months ahead of schedule.
My task was to make a plan for getting myself from the office to the presentation.
As the title of this blog suggests, I am without car. I have very generous housemates who are willing to let me borrow their car for occasions such as this. When do I manage to tell them the date, time, and location of this presentation? Two night before it happens.
Another in the long list of, "You know, this would've worked out better had you given us a bit more warning."
But short-term, practical planning is not the way in which my brain functions.
I did get to borrow the car. But only after I drove them 20 minutes home, then drove 20 minutes to the presentation, all the while thinking (1) "Oh my god you're an idiot idiot stupid idiot when will you ever ever learn," and (2) "I hope I'm not late I hope I'm not late oh for the love of all that is good don't let me be late."
And that's how I think about it when things go wrong. Welp, you're pretty shitty right now, Lynnette. You're probably always going to be shitty when it comes to this. You've tried; you've failed. What's left to do? Maybe go crawl under a rock and grow some moss.
Ouch.
I've been lucky enough to have a long line of people in my life who are willing to be compassionate to me when I am not willing to be compassionate to myself.
While I remarked how dumb I felt for my failures at scheduling on the drive home before the presentation that day, my housemate told me, "At least people around you have realized that and are willing to work with it instead of dragging their feet. I love you dearly, but you're not very good at this, no." She even topped it off with a couple of reassuring pats and a laugh.
I've only recently begun to learn even a tiny modicum that it's ok to be forgiven by others for making mistakes. I still marvel that when I do something downright aggravating/stress-inducing/a major oversight, people are willing to be my friend afterward.
Caring, a strange and foreign concept.
So news flash, Lynnette: It's ok to forgive yourself, too.
Even Science and Ted Talks say so.
The Space Between Self-Esteem and Self-Compassion
It might boarder on redundant to say that it's not an easy thing to do. It often means admitting that you've failed, that you're average. It also means having to take responsibility for a mistake and working toward being better in the future, and most of us know that complaining and doing nothing is much easier.
But how awesome not to constantly feel like a fuck-up, maybe even like a human being, maybe even happier sometimes?
Well, pretty damn awesome.
Not-so-incidentally, thank you to all of my friends who have given me the compassion that I haven't been able to give myself. Hopefully I will continue to learn from your example. And hopefully you are as nice to yourselves as you are to me.
