A couple of days ago I was standing in my kitchen before a class with a couple of my students, Mary and Christy, and I was telling them about all the mistakes I’d been making lately, dropping balls left and right, and Mary, who teaches a desktop publishing class at a college nearby says, “Hey, those mistakes are important,” and goes on to tell us what she says to her class on the first day. “You can take desktop publishing from anyone,” she begins, “but the reason you’re taking it from me is because I’ve got 40 years of mistakes to share with you.”
So let’s get that straight. The teacher isn’t the person who knows more than you, not the master at whatever it is you’re trying to learn, the golden one who maybe you’ll be able to emulate one day. No, she’s just messed up more than you – and seriously, you can’t buy that kind of talent.
40 years of mistakes is quite a trek, and if you’re lucky, you’re still making them, at least I am.
This last month has felt exactly like learning how to parallel park a big old clunker of a car with a whole crowd of people standing on the sidewalk watching. I’m doing it Lucille Ball style; hitting the car in front of me, then the car in back of me, over and over until the big car is reduced to a sardine can. Nothing elegant about it. Cue the laugh track.
Of course I’m making every day mistakes like forgetting someone’s name or forgetting to call on a student to read when everyone else has read, but the more horrifying mistakes have happened in my Wild Writing Teacher Training, where 12 brave souls have given me a lot of dough and their time so I can take them on a five-month journey to become Wild Writing Teachers. And maybe because I’ve jumped into something bigger, raised the bar on myself so to speak, I’m carrying more stress around this work – like, I better not mess up.
Here are the kinds of balls I’ve dropped with them:
Sharing a trainee’s personal information with the class because I thought it was cute, but realized only later when she spoke to me that it wasn’t my information to share. This in the midst of trying to create a safe space for everyone.
Increasing the number of my Wild Writing Trainees from 10 to 12 this season, and realizing that the schedule doesn’t work the way I thought it would with 12, and having to re-jigger the flow of class in front of the group to try to make it work. I got it to work, but it wasn’t ideal and I have to live with that.
Created a lot more work for myself in the process.
Meant to read a really great writing prompt to them last week, but forgot entirely and my teaching felt clunky.
I was talking to my friend Sandy – another type A perfectionist – and we admitted how attached we are to making things look seamless. We talk about the importance of making mistakes, but when it comes to our own, not so much. We actually don’t know much about making them at all because we’re constantly working in overdrive to ensure that they don’t happen. Then when we do make a mistake, we’re totally freaked out, like a great wind has come along and blown all our clothes off. Especially if we make these mistakes in front of other people, and particularly people who are paying us for our expertise. It really messes with the self-image, but we barely have to deal with it because we don’t make enough mistakes to learn how to make mistakes.
“The best yoga class I ever taught,” says Christy,“ was when I’d pulled my psoas muscle and hobbled into class one day, slid down the wall and poured myself onto the floor. ‘So you want to learn yoga?’ I said to my students. ‘Here’s what’s up today; Non attachment, impermanence, the destruction of the ego. Let’s have at it!”
Let’s have at it indeed.
If I’m doing anything right, it’s that as much as I want to double over and vomit when I mess up, I am trying to share my mistakes with my students, who will become teachers themselves. And maybe, like Mary says, I can save them some trouble.
In the first Wild Writing Training last year, I invited six students to stay with me at my house, thinking it would be a cozy slumber party, but didn’t consider that I’d also be cooking, shopping AND LEADING the weekend workshop. I also gave my bed away to a very nice woman, and ended up on a military cot in the office that was so tiny I had to lay my arms across my chest to sleep. By the end of the weekend they could see my frayed nerves and I had to open the damn kimono and tell them what happened.
I come by this incredible efforting honestly. I saw my mother take on too much my whole life. She could come home from the tennis court, create a 5-course meal for 20 people and emerge from her room looking dazzling in her beaded gowns and heels. Of course there was a strong drink while she cooked, and a couple after the guests came, not to mention the raw exhaustion and anger that seeped out of her while she was trying to make everything beautiful.
Taking on too much, making things look seamless, keeping a smile plastered on my face, trying to keep everyone happy, thinking that the more I take on the more incredible I am. As I get older, operating this way becomes less and less tenable. It’s not sustaining and it’s not fun. Maybe the fact that the balls are falling is a good thing, an inevitable, organic life-saving thing, and something to learn from. Falling like the fat Camelia blossoms in my yard, heavy and bright and beautiful as they touch the ground.
Wow Laurie…your wisdom and honesty is breathtaking, and humbling. Thank you for daring to be human and imperfect. Perhaps today I will give myself a little more permission to be so too. So much appreciation for you!
Your writing is a special treat to read always. Xoxo
But your love is always flawless. xoxo
A beautiful piece, Laurie, that reveals much of your humanity and the never-ending need for extending grace and kindness. Thank you.
One of the great gifts of age is that we can’t sustain the perfectionism of our earlier years — I hate to even call it perfectionism, because that makes it sound like something worthy and noble. Older years require that we treasure the moments, and actual frail selves, as we never did before. Thank you for putting it before us. The art of now is figuring out what pot we can make with the clay we have, not scrounging around for miles to find something better or more beautiful. And those limits make life richer, not poorer. Thanks, Laurie.
Thank you for your vulnerability and transparency. I am SO with you on this today. Every day. “We talk about the importance of making mistakes—but when it comes to our own, not so much.” Ah yes!!!
This is me, exactly. Thank you, Laurie, for not holding back here; you describe perfectly what my mistakes feel like when you write:
“We actually don’t know much about making them at all because we’re constantly working in overdrive to ensure that they don’t happen. Then when we do make a mistake, we’re totally freaked out, like a great wind has come along and blown all our clothes off. Especially if we make these mistakes in front of other people, and particularly people who are paying us for our expertise. It really messes with the self-image, but we barely have to deal with it because we don’t make enough mistakes to learn how to make mistakes.”
WOW. Nailed it. Thank you for the reflection. I’ll have to sit with this a while. xx
Yes. Ego finally takes a back seat. It’s quite stunning. Thanks for the encouragement you just sent out to the world.
Sweet relief! …”40 years of mistakes to share”…that would be me in nutshell.
A light of permission admidst a life that most often feels like a long series of trials and errors.
Thank you, thank you, thank you:)
Thank you for bringing it real, Laurie. I imagine returning to this post in my mind and greeting my future mistakes with more kindness. Inspired, as always, by your bold sharing.
Another beautiful, honest, true story written (and lived) with grace. I love you so much Laurie. I love the idea of carrying our 40 years of mistakes, just like our wrinkles, to show how much we lived, tried, and experienced. LOVE YOU!!! 💥💓💥
Beautiful! I read it right after over-filling and spilling my coffee in what seems to be a regular morning mistake. I, too, have one of those over-achieving mothers who continues, at 91, to set the bar higher than I’ll ever achieve. Thank God for different roll models, women who can at least attempt to embrace imperfection in al its beauty!
PS – nice to have that short visit with you yesterday. 🙂
Hi ‘Cuz,
So raw and honest – my god!
What you’re saying is that, uh oh, maybe you’re a carbon copy of your mom and grandmother?
Isn’t it funny that we become our mothers after all.
Sending love,
Lucille Ball style. Yeah baby. We are “splendidly imperfect” (said with arms up overhead waving in the air). How lovely to read your words about teaching about imperfection while fighting it tooth and nail yourself…”If I’m doing anything right, it’s that as much as I want to double over and vomit when I mess up, I am trying to share my mistakes with my students, who will become teachers themselves.” Thank you for your authenticity and sharing this with us. I am practicing undoing 40+ years of scanning my body for all the flaws (“that cellulite is still there, look at those peasant ankles, oi the jowls…”) Can I truly say I am practicing self-compassion and acceptance if I have a running list of mistakes with my body. Uh, no. Here’s to opening arms to messiness and imperfection. XOXOO
Ohhh yeah! Just what I needed to hear, and right there alongside you on the journey of making life work, with all the ebbs and flows. You are awesome Laurie!
Thanks for sharing Laurie.
There’s no one’s imperfections I’d rather learn from than yours!
Another terrific and inspiring post by my beloved muse. For sure, the scary secret of being an artist is being willing to fail — to make one mistake after another, fall into the pond, take a pie in the face, misspell just the wrong word in an important letter. Thank you for helping to make my own gaffes less painful.
It reminds me of what Jane Fonda say’s, – “I don’t have to be perfect, I just have to be whole”.
Laurie, thank you for your honesty.
I’ve been re-learning the “I don’t have to be perfect” image the past 10 years. This new way of “being” has been a game changer for me.
Thank you for continuing to have the courage to share your life’s insights.
Love this post. It reminds me of Brene Brown’s famous TED talk on Vulnerability. Have you all heard it? (https://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability) It’s so perfect for this post.
Tresha- THANK YOU for giving the TED talks address for Brene. It was so needed.
Oh, hells yeah. Love your wisdom, truth, and open heart…not to mention the beautiful way you write about it all.
Thank you! Today and every time I am gifted by reading one of your pieces. I needed this one today, more than ever, as I am in training to become a Kundalini Yoga instructor. I set the bar so high for myself that I nearly want to quit before I even get started.
I appreciate you, your wisdom, and your vulnerability.
Kit ~
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