We are built to make mistakes, coded for error.
—Lewis Thomas
And thank god for mistakes,
our inherent inclination to not do
what we’re supposed to. It’s cellular,
they say. Biological. Evolutionary.
Just two nights ago, my back erred.
Stopped working. Would not stand straight.
Would not sit. No walking. No bending.
No lifting. No twisting. You lay down,
it said. You don’t move. And so for two days,
I’ve watched the sky out the window.
I’ve watched the wall be a wall. I’ve
marveled at the body, how it changes
from go to no in an instant. How
a simple mistake—a lunge to the side—
didn’t seem like a mistake at the time.
And yet, because of it, rest. Because of it,
a quieting. A welcome nothing. The occasion
to know healing. The firm invitation
to learn to say no. How difficult times
help us grow. How mistakes become
game changers, chances for transformation,
the summons to wonder, What am I doing
here anyway? Why am I really here? And
the bravest part of the self steps in to answer.
- Dear Friends, I have been literally flat on my back for several days, and I was utterly unable to write poems. Or do anything, for that matter. It was so humbling. Amazing, really, to be so incapacitated! And I am feeling much better. Your regularly scheduled daily poems should return now …
