Beech Tree News Network

I have done some of the stupidest things in my life.  Sometimes, I look back and wish there had been someone around to advise me to do things differently or at least to get me to listen to sound reason; but even if there had been, I probably wouldn’t have listened or if I had listened, I probably wouldn’t have understood.  

When most people admonish you, they don’t say things like, “You talk too much and you over-react to the littlest things.”  No, they are much more diplomatic, and they will say something like, “You have a lot of words and you really focus on tiny details,” which is what I was told a long time ago, by a good friend.  It would be years before I figured out what she meant was I talked too much and over-reacted to everything.  I pretty much need things spelled out for me, in actual life situations anyway, which is strange, because I have a penchant for books and movies that rely heavily on insinuation and innuendo.  I don’t like being spoon fed.  I have a blind spot when it comes to me seeing me, however, and almost without fail, I only reach important insights in hindsight.  

It wasn’t until I saw myself on film that I realized the “lot of words over-reacting” thing.  Years ago, I attended a surprise party for one of my friends.  One of her relatives was filming as our friend entered the house, and kept filming everyone for another 15 minutes.  Before the party was over, we decided to view the film so we could watch our friend’s surprise.  I was stunned to hear my voice above everyone else’s going on and on about an accident I saw on the way to the party.  Although that incident was a bit embarrassing, it was the kick in the pants I needed to stop talking so much, as well as to stop over-reacting to every little thing.

The hard part of all the little lessons I’ve learned along the way is the part where I’m supposed to move on and build on what I’ve learned from the missteps.  Like the party recording, my missteps tend to play over and over in my mind, and I just relive the embarrassment.  

Josh Scott, our pastor at MCC, once talked about the importance of being kind to our former selves.  He made the point that we would never look at a little child and ridicule them for their first imperfect steps or their first imperfect words.  We know that’s how they learn.  We pick little ones up and brush them off.  We bandage then kiss them, and encourage them to try again.  If we could be that way with our adult selves, we would make more headway.

It takes nerve to move forward, and I’ve always admired the people who could do that after missteps, big or small.  It’s easy to whine and cry and feel sorry for yourself—a road I’ve taken way too many times.  It takes courage to build on what went wrong.   If it were up to me, I’d tear down what went wrong and bury it, leaving nary a trace, but I’ve come to realize that’s not really helpful, especially when it comes to your relationships with others.  It is your vulnerability that gives you compassion for others who have things falling down around them.

Humor is an important ingredient in moving forward.  One of my favorite stories about picking yourself up after a devastating blow involves the actors, Burt Reynolds and Clint Eastwood.  In their early careers, they both were fired from a film project on the same day.  Burt was told he couldn’t act.  Clint was told his Adam’s apple was too big.  After they gathered their things and left the production lot, Burt looked at Clint and told him how sorry he was that his career had taken a nosedive.  Clint was puzzled.  “You just got fired, too,” he said.  “Yeah,” said Burt, “But I can always take acting lessons.  There’s nothing you can do about that Adam’s apple.”  

Ultimately, Clint ended up doing quite a bit with that Adam’s apple.  He understood the importance of moving forward and continuing to build, even if it involved building upon what others deemed a personal flaw.