William (not his real name) is a completely reliable craftsman who has done a lot of work for us over the past several years. Being nearly incompetent ourselves when it comes to repairing, painting, electrical work, tile, and almost anything else around the house, we have been so pleased to have someone who is careful and competent to take care of these things for us. William is easy to be around, always returns phone calls, and seems to take care of our little jobs as if they were in his own home.
I followed William to the kitchen where we looked at the situation together. When my husband and I decided to purchase twelve double-cell blinds to insulate our windows, we first asked William if he had the time to measure the windows and install the blinds for us. If he didn’t have time, we might not have undertaken the project at all. I created a spreadsheet of the windows with a name for each one and William measured them all and wrote the measurements in large legible numerals on the list.
"I think I wrote the wrong number on the sheet," said William. "This blind is one inch too narrow." William had not yet put the shade into the bracket he had just installed within the window frame next to the stove.
"Let’s see how it looks when you put it up," I suggested, postponing any conclusions until we could see the full effect of the discrepancy. What was going through my mind at that moment? I tested myself to see if I was thinking that I should have measured the windows myself. Nope, I wasn’t thinking that. Was I thinking that if William made the mistake, he should pay to fix it? No, even though he offered to do so immediately, I wasn’t thinking that I could let him do that. Was I angry or upset? No, I was calm and sure that the situation wouldn’t be bad, and if it was bad, it would be fixed easily.
When it was installed, sure enough, the shade was an inch too narrow, but it still covered all the glass of the window, and if you didn’t know to look right at that gap between the shade and the window frame, you wouldn’t notice that it was narrower than the others. I persuaded William to leave this shade in place only by promising that I was going to install drapes that would cover the space along that side. It was so easy for me to see this as a slight miscalculation with minimal consequences. William confiscated the order form for the shade so he would be able to purchase a new one for us if we had a moment’s hesitation about this one.
William’s error was specific and minor, easily forgiven and forgotten. Not so when the situation was reversed and I made a mistake just a day or two later. I’m not talking about pouring warm decaf hazelnut coffee all over myself by tipping the cup toward my lips before I secured the lid. That made a thorough mess, but no one seemed to notice, and I was reading a new book on Buddhism at the time, so I thought of it as my first test.
No, the mistake I’m talking about was more "public, like a frog." Even telling it elicits waves of recrimination! I phoned the oil delivery and heating company where we have a service contract to report that one of our heating zones wasn’t working. Some variation of this has happened enough times over the years that they know my name and address well. I think they dread my calls. Well, I dread having to call, maybe even more! In the conversation about the current issue, I got into a little tussle with the service manager about when they provide yearly maintenance and whether “bleeding” the radiators is covered in our policy. My point was about preventive maintenance versus servicing our furnace in the middle of the night on a weekend because the filters were clogged causing the temperature to plunge to below fifty degrees when we were away for a few days. Enough said. We agreed that the situation on this particular morning was not urgent and could wait until the next day. Several hours later I received a call that they could come immediately because of a cancellation. Great!
The two service men checked the furnace and found nothing obviously wrong. One of them came to the door and asked to see the thermostat from the non-operative zone. Ugh! He switched it on and the furnace began to purr immediately. My mistake! I had changed the battery recently, and in the process of prying the cover off and snapping it back on, I must have switched the lever to the “Off” position.
I’m still not over this mistake! In fact, I doubt if I will ever call this company again for service. We will either have to change service companies, wait until spring to get warm, or it’s going to be my husband’s turn to call from now until the end of time. Why is it one of my most dreaded occasions to make a call for help only to find that I don’t need it? Like taking a feverish child to the doctor, and by the time you get there, the child is jolly and cool.
Stepping back in perspective, even this mistake is simple, specific, and minor, though definitely embarrassing. Oh, but what about those serious errors in judgment years ago that potentially could have derailed a life or two? Learning to forgive myself is apparently one of the essential principles of Buddhism, but I was raised Roman Catholic. Mortal sins, I was taught, leave a dark smudge on your soul. How did I accept this belief so firmly and lose sight of forgiveness along with everything else about this brand of faith?
No, about these personal failures, I have not yet forgiven myself. I am horrified to look back and see the smudges still there, turbulent with emotion. Regret doesn’t cut it, and divine intervention isn’t currently available. William came to me and said, "I messed up." It was so easy to let it go, a feather drifting through my consciousness. When it comes to my own mistakes, I’ve got the whole live albatross struggling in my arms.
For Your Writing:
Achieving compassion and forgiveness can be a major accomplishment involving months or years of reflection and personal growth. Focus first on times when you have forgiven someone else for "mistakes" both big and small. Stay with this for awhile, starting with the easy forgiveness occasions and working up to some that were more difficult for you. Is it easier for you to forgive a stranger or acquaintance than to forgive someone close to you? If you feel open to more heavy lifting on this topic, reflect on several small, recent mistakes or accidents of your own. Can you achieve compassion and clear your conscience on these? Early adulthood is a fruitful time for making mistakes that matter. If you are looking back on your twenties or thirties, perhaps you may have one or more of these complex behaviors to write about. Forgiveness is a lifelong process.
Quotation for Percolation:
"Compassion for ourselves gives rise to the power to transform resentment into forgiveness, hatred into friendliness, and fear into respect for all beings."
Jack Kornfield (peacequotes@livingcompassion.org)
