I just had an important phone conversation in which I felt like a complete idiot. You know, where you hang up the phone and think, “Where WAS my brain? Did my personality just disappear?!” And immediately those thoughts are followed by, “what kind of idiotic impression did I leave? How can I show my face to this person ever again?!” I know my words are dramatic, but so am I. Wait, not dramatic, passionate. (Trying to remain positive here.)
This is a great opportunity for me to learn a little thing called vulnerability and grace towards self. The phrase “you are your own worst critic” absolutely rings true in my head, and it is no good. Being self-critical fuels shame which leads to disconnection. When this happens there is more isolation and the sense of “belonging” is near impossible; I am immobile. I don’t think I’ve heard it better said than when Brene Brown wrote, “true belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world, our sense of belonging can never be greater than our level of self-acceptance.”
A moment ago, I was beating myself up, thinking maybe I drop the being brave act; it’s probably best to just bow out, and then I remember, “it is not the critic who counts…the credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by sweat and blood…who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error…and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly…” (Thank you Theodore Roosevelt.)
Light bulbs! Knowledge being churned into wisdom. So yes, I fumbled and mumbled and I am probably not qualified. But I will put myself out there, I will be brave, and I will trust that even if I fail, I know that was being true to myself. And that is all I can ask.