Why We’re Incapable Of Making Mistakes

Of late, it seems that many of my friends have become bogged down by the fear of making mistakes. Perhaps it is because we are coming to the end of another year. This always seems to give us reflection, doesn’t it? What did I do this year? What did I not do this year? How can I improve next year?

Frankly, I love dispensing advice. It’s probably a good thing I’m not a mother, because I can just see how that would play out. It’s far better to share my thoughts with those who will actually appreciate it.

Here’s my honest belief – we don’t make mistakes.

Allow me to get freaky for a second as I delve a bit deeper.

I think that every person comes into this world with a list of lessons that they are to learn. Every incident that they encounter, every “mistake” or “misstep” pushes them toward a deeper self-awareness.

I also believe that because we have these lessons to learn, the “end” of our lives comes once we’ve learned those lessons. So we can float along in life taking it as it comes, or we can have a crazy, wonderful time – but at the end of it, we’ll somehow have learned the same things, made peace with the same conclusions. We’ll have the same wishes and regrets, the same joys and sorrows. You’ll wonder about the life you didn’t live – but don’t lose faith, my friends, for it was not the life meant for your journey this time around.

People ask me how this can be. After all, children leave this earth often, don’t they? Babies, even. People are raped, murdered, live in horrible poverty, lose both parents at too young an age, there’s cancer and AIDS and hepatitis and mental illness and a slew of other things that can go wrong. People are shot or killed in car accidents or freak accidents and it seems as if they leave us so suddenly. How did they earn such fates, such…lessons, as I call them?

I don’t know. I’m not saying my view is right. For some people it’s probably naïve – stupid, even.

That’s okay.

I just know that since I’ve adopted this viewpoint, I’ve flung myself into life whereas before, I was pretty damn cautious. I find that I’m living, not in fear of screwing up but in the joy of learning and pushing boundaries. It’s almost like I gave myself permission to stop being such a priss.

And it’s wonderful.

Do you have a view on life that others might find weird? Share it in the comments below.

Give Blood, Give Back

Giving blood is a great way to help others. These are people that you will likely never meet, but they are people that you will make a difference to- a lifesaving difference.

There was a short span in my life where I thought I wanted to be a nurse. The truth is that I had the personality for it- until it came to dealing with death. I am aware that death is a part of life, but it is not something I was able to separate myself from. I wish I could explain how easily my heart attaches itself to people. It’s like it doles itself out a piece at a time to everyone I interact with. Sometimes bigger pieces, sometimes smaller. And when those pieces went to patients who didn’t make it…I can’t really explain quite how that felt either. I know I didn’t know them that well, but there is something so intimate about a relationship- even one that only lasts a week or so- when you are a caregiver. When you bathe someone or help them clean up after using the bathroom or brush their hair or hold their hand because they just need to know someone is there- those were some of the toughest months that I can recall having ever had in my life. I dropped out of school and haven’t once regretted it- which has been a relief.
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Try. And try and try and try…

Today, I thought I would discuss the importance of persistence- mainly because my personality is an incredibly persistent one. I am, without a doubt, my own most annoying life coach. Being persistent, constantly irrevocably persistent, seems to be a rare trait. Does this make me special? No. I can list numerous rare traits that I do not possess.
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