Unnamed

I have been sharing stories of persons who have shaped my life - the way that I think about things, the things I think about myself, the ways that I interact with the world. And until today, I have named each one of them. But today, I am not going to use a name. 

I want to, but things still feel a little fragile with this person (which is probably entirely me and not them), and I don't want to put the weight of a single moment on it right now. I am mindful of the ways in which telling my story, especially where it intersects with others, is to also tell their story. And doing so can change a dynamic. 

But I've been thinking about this person, and this moment, a lot lately. It was a moment in which my confidence got the best of me. My confidence and my woundedness. 

It was one of those moments that started with me feeling like I wasn't being taken seriously. Like I wasn't being given credit for being as capable as I am. Yes, it was one of those moments that started with an omission - not an outright rejection, but an omission. 

I wasn't asked to do something. 

I wasn't asked not to do it. I wasn't told not to do. I just wasn't asked to do it. And in my indignant little soul, I was standing there completely offended. I'm just as good and capable as anyone else. Doesn't this person know who I am? Is it because I'm a girl? 

And it seemed stupid. I mean, I was asked to go do another part of the task that would put me right adjacent to the part of the task I was not asked to do. Meanwhile, someone else would be waiting until I finished my part of the work to come and do the thing I wasn't asked to do. Doesn't it make more sense for me to just do the whole thing, since I'm going to be standing right there? Makes sense to me. Makes more sense than for me to walk all the way over to where I need to do my part, then walk all the way back to inform someone else it's time for them to walk all the way over there to do their part, which would bring them right back to where we both already started. 

And I was totally capable. It was a simple sort of thing, the kind of thing I had done a thousand times, though not in this particular situation or with this particular piece of equipment. But...I got this. So I'm going to surprise them all, cut out the middle man, and come riding in like a triumphant little soldier on a victory lap. 

Until I didn't. 

Until I got stuck. 

Until part of the task took me by surprise and caught me in a way that I wouldn't have expected. And, suddenly completely unsure of myself, I stopped mid-task and left the whole thing in a very precarious place. 

And I never heard another word about it. Not then. Not since then. It's been almost a decade since that moment, and this person has never brought it up. In fact, I think the only thing said at that time was a little lesson about how I could have gotten through that little trouble spot and could have done it. 

This person gave me the grace to fail...and then to just move on. And for some reason, I have been thinking about this moment a lot recently and thinking about what a tremendous gift it is. 

If I hadn't been in a position to fail, I wouldn't have been in a position to succeed, either. You never succeed at anything you don't try, and you don't learn anything new without trying. For example, that day, I learned that I wasn't as capable as I thought I was and that maybe others had more understanding about certain things than I did. But I also learned how to do it better next time, if there ever is a next time, and I think that if there is, that person would tell me I could do it - even with all the evidence to the contrary. The fact that, when I took the chance that wasn't given to me, I couldn't do it. The next time there's a chance, it might be given to me. By the very same person. 

And I want to be that person. I want to be that person that's safe to fail around. I want to be that person who will let you try, embrace the teaching moment, and then throw you the keys the next time it comes around. I want to be a teacher full of grace and encouragement as much as wisdom and knowledge. 

I thank this person for that example. Which, by the way, they keep setting for me, even now.