Last Thursday morning, as the snow was falling hard at 7:00 a.m., I decided, based upon the dire predictions of a “snow hurricane,” to cancel my clients in Corning rather than drive 35 miles home later in the day in what promised to be quite hazardous conditions. By 9:30 a.m. the snowfall was negligible, the roads were merely wet, and the cancellations I’d already made were irreversible. “I should have just gone instead of believing the weather people!” I announced to my husband, more than once, as I added up the inconvenience to others and myself, and the income loss. “Don’t worry. We’re fine. Just enjoy the time.” He reminded me, several times, clearly trying to be patient with my frustration.
I busied myself with the bookkeeping and banking that awaited, as well as laundry and other lingering household tasks. By midday I’d settled down, still feeling unaccustomed to having time at home without some chore calling for my attention. As long as I stayed frustrated, I was telling myself I’d made a mistake by not going to the office, despite the weather warnings. But once I settled my anxiety through some distracting and productive action, I was able to hear what Andrew had said several hours before–that this really wasn’t a problem and all will be well. I could turn what I’d seen as a mistake, which inevitably means beating myself up for not knowing better, into some mild regret, which simply means I wish it had been different, and carries no blame or shame.
When I hear my clients berate themselves for the “mistakes” they’ve made, I use this as an opportunity to look at who they were and what they knew at the time they made that now regretted choice. Countless times I’ve said, “A mistake isn’t a mistake except in retrospect.” We never deliberately decide to go against what we believe are our best interests. A decision looks like a mistake only after we have information that we didn’t have when we made that choice. If we knew then what we know now, we would have decided differently. If I’d known that the temperatures would be staying above freezing all day, I would have driven to Corning, prepared to head home a bit earlier if the snow started to stick on the roads.
So before you leave too many bruises on yourself for the “mistakes” you’ve made, rewind the tape in your head and remember what the circumstances were when you decided what you did. Most likely you can move your mistake into the regret column, grieve what might have been if you’d known otherwise, and move on. This is one of the simple yet profound ways to increase the compassion we show ourselves. As a very famous book states, “Love others as yourself.” That presumes that you treat yourself lovingly first.
