In describing my actions on the morning of August 29, I used the words “I felt all too human”, and trust me I was not being kind to myself. Let me fill you in. I have been mulling this over since that morning, and have gone through the adrenaline rush of realizing the mistake I had made, a frenzy of trying to sort out a solution, and having to carry on. That was followed by feeling completely heart sick. Then I picked myself up and continued to moved forward. I spoke to my therapist about the “incident” before writing this because I didn’t want to get it wrong. We talked about the shame I felt, while at the same time knowing there was nothing I could do, that I hadn’t purposefully done it, and that I needed to give myself some grace.
The All Too Human Incident
If you have been following my blog, social media posts, or my newsletter, you know I was totally psyched about the Melissa Leapman Professional Development Summit at which I was teaching five classes. I used all those outlets to tell everyone I knew and encourage designers and others to join the Summit. I was pumped about each class topic, and worked on creating amazing slides for the classes, polishing the content to get the largest amount of material into the short time I had. My schedule that week was rearranged so I would be rested and ready. The slides were reviewed daily, getting tweaked as I thought of new points, or better points, to make. I was totally ready to be the professional that I am.
I taught my Sizing class and a class on Collaborations on August 28. They both seemed to go really well. I was set to do my three classes, beginning at 8 am on the 29th. The alarm went off at 6:45, I began my morning routine, got showered and dressed (looking sharp!), and then entered the zen state I enter every morning and totally forgot to keep my eye on the clock. Mitch realized the time at 8:04. I ran to my computer and got online, but it was too late. I was horrified at myself.
Melissa Leapman was completely gracious and had, as I would have, found a solution in the 15 minutes before the class was to start. I hadn’t seen any of the alarms or emails, because I don’t usually check my phone in the mornings. I didn’t wake up my computer, although I went in and out of my office several times to make notes for myself on the classes. The whole zen time I was thinking about how to do the best possible classes, but I completely forgot to keep an eye on the time.
The gig was Melissa’s so it was her call what to do. The other two classes went off without incident and again, I thought they went really well, although I remained a little rattled. The funny thing was, the class I missed was the one I was the most excited to teach. This wasn’t a self-sabotage incident, it was truly, just being all to human.
What I Know About Myself
Mornings are not my best time. I never schedule calls before 10 am. If absolutely pushed, I’ll do them after 9, but I always warn people that it isn’t my best time. After an entire adult life of getting up every morning, I still use an alarm. As an example, this morning I slept to 8:45 when there wasn’t an alarm set. Short weeks are hard! Mitch knows better than to try to engage me too early in the morning, and I am sorely annoyed with him when he does so. I had to quit teaching 8:30 classes at FIDM because I always felt crabby.
My therapist agreed that it was just a thing that happened. We discussed the shame I feel, and also how I know there is absolutely nothing that will change that “the incident” happened. I hope that Melissa doesn’t judge me too harshly. I so enjoyed giving the classes and Melissa and her team were delightful and helpful, and I was completely impressed by her organization!
How to Move On
I used to try to be things I’m not. I don’t have the energy to do that any more. Plus, I don’t think I should have to be anything but myself. Of course I try to be thoughtful, gracious, funny, smart, flexible, and all those things we should be to live in society, but I also want to be creative, curious, focused, selfish about my time, generous, and all the other things I also am. So, I totally #$^%ed up. Yes, indeed I did. Life goes on. As it should.
Thanks Jill. You’ve taught us to survive our mistakes, apologize and move on.
Bonnie Baker says
Jill we all make mistakes. Being a professional I’m sure being on time is top priority.
I’m glad you saw your therapist for this.
I too would have felt shame.
Thank you Bonnie!
Laureen Marchand says
Even sometimes we wish the earth would swallow us up, life does go on. And in these kinds of situations, sometimes there isn’t even anything to learn. Except that you give grace to all of us with your honest recounting of an accident.
Thank you Laureen. Honesty is always the best. We try so hard not to be flawed, but we all are!
Lynn Somerstein says
Our flaws make us