(I'm not very good at it.) (I'm also not overly motivated to change it.) (Don't be mad.)
I have a brilliant idea, though. One day, I'm going to invent a parking stall with moving lines. You just park where you want, get out, and marvel at the perfection. Ta-da. Look mom, no hands!
Now that I mention it, I hate most things that I'm not good at. Is it just me?! Do I also avoid things I can't understand? Is it easy to make excuses instead of making sense of it? Does making excuses include transferring our shame to someone else instead of taking ownership of gaps in our inabilites...?
OK...so back to parking. The lines don't move (for now). I can clearly see the lines, so that means my vision is perfectly fine. But even when I think I've done a really good job and open the door to "praise myself" for my success, I'm still over the line. Or close. Too close.
This can only mean two things; My mother passed on the "Inability-to-Park" genes from her late ancestors whose horses consistently wandered over the gravelled pathway and into the ditch (the most mutated form of this gene, of course). Or perhaps it means I need a smaller car...
Or else, I suppose, if I really wanted to, I could LOOK at my weakness, admit that although I keep trying, I'm still struggling and try to move on. Would I start a revolution?!!
I have no promises for tomorrow's parking. But today I'm really sorry that I crossed the line and blocked you in. But don't blow it out of proportion. (It's not like I stole your car.)
Practical application: My mistakes and inherent weaknesses give me a lot of compassion for my kids, who are also in the processs of taking responsibility for their own actions and learning not. to. blame. others. It's not about closing our eyes, blaming someone else, or never parking again. We are all human here. It's time someone admitted it.
"You know, somebody actually complimented me on my driving today.They left me a little note on my windshield that said, 'Parking Fine.'"(Tommy Cooper)