I woke up this morning thinking about a scheduling error I
made Friday at work. Actually, I have to check on it when I get to the office tomorrow,
because I may not have made the error. I am pretty sure I did, however.
My spontaneous reaction to this realization was that this was a huge mistake that will be very difficult to correct. You know, the fate of nations hangs in the balance, that sort of thing.
Well, not so much. It may entail a telephone call and a couple of letters. And a few minutes of awkwardness as I come clean about the mistake and figure out what the boss -- who is really not my "boss" in the usual sense, since I donate my services -- wants done about it.
This little episode reminds me of a trap that I sometimes fall into. I act as if, when I come to a fork in the road and start off along one path, I can no longer change directions. I begin to think in terms of "I need to get to B, and you can't get there from here!"
Whereas, in fact, I can get most anywhere from here, even if it sometimes means going somewhere else first. The way forward does not consist of a superhighway with extremely limited access. It is more like a rustic country road, branching off here and there. merging, part of a large network. There is probably a shortest route, a more scenic route and so on. But there are actually lots of ways to get where I want to go. Including stepping off the road and wandering through the woods.
My spontaneous reaction to this realization was that this was a huge mistake that will be very difficult to correct. You know, the fate of nations hangs in the balance, that sort of thing.
Well, not so much. It may entail a telephone call and a couple of letters. And a few minutes of awkwardness as I come clean about the mistake and figure out what the boss -- who is really not my "boss" in the usual sense, since I donate my services -- wants done about it.
This little episode reminds me of a trap that I sometimes fall into. I act as if, when I come to a fork in the road and start off along one path, I can no longer change directions. I begin to think in terms of "I need to get to B, and you can't get there from here!"
Whereas, in fact, I can get most anywhere from here, even if it sometimes means going somewhere else first. The way forward does not consist of a superhighway with extremely limited access. It is more like a rustic country road, branching off here and there. merging, part of a large network. There is probably a shortest route, a more scenic route and so on. But there are actually lots of ways to get where I want to go. Including stepping off the road and wandering through the woods.
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