Yesterday, anxiety reintroduced itself to me. Not in the usual way, where I can’t fall asleep, or I’m consumed by my own thoughts, but in the way I thought I had escaped. The manic, can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t cope, can’t BE, two Xanax before lunch kind of way.
I left work for the day.
Today I’m feeling embarrassed and small and cleaning my office. I tend to clean when my brain gets manic like this. If I can’t impose order on my own body, I can certainly impose it on my work/living/sleeping space. As I was cleaning off my bulletin board of all the outdated items, I found a piece of writing I did almost a year ago, when I was frustrated with Grant, but refused to be angry with him—he was angry at me, and I chose immediately to forgive him his anger, rather than engage.
“If I’ve learned anything in the past five years, it’s that we’re all entitled to some measure of grace. Grace is not something you ever earn, or something you can stockpile for a rainy day. Grace is freely given. In that spirit, we should all be willing to give people’s mistakes and accidents a strong measure of grace, if only because we know we will need it one day ourselves. Freeing the people we live and work closely with every day to ‘make mistakes and get messy’ in an atmosphere free of judgment or recrimination can only increase a team’s creative output and give you a soft place to land when it’s your turn to fall.
“Let ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I was wrong’ be enough to be going on with. Humility takes courage. Reward courage with the help it takes to make the world better.”
Grace is a gift. Whether it’s from others or from yourself. Grant yourself the forgiveness and space you need to get through today and tomorrow. Keep breathing.
Nothing will be perfect, but everything will be okay. Broken things are never beyond repair.