It's His Fault!

“You must take personal responsibility. You cannot change the circumstances, the seasons, or the wind, but you can change yourself. That is something you have charge of.”~ Jim Rohn


There are many times in the life of a mother when she wants to look at her children and lovingly say “I told you so.” Yesterday was one of those fatidic moments for me.

We have recently adopted a kitten, and although I have repeatedly told my daughter that the kitten is not a toy - and should only be picked up occasionally - my opinion in the matter seem to quickly evaporate the moment the words escape my lips.

Yesterday morning, she was on a mission to get the cat to sit on the counter beside one of her stuffed animals; when she put him down, the kitten tried to escape and she grabbed him quickly – too quickly.

The cat slipped off the counter and instinctually tried to hold on to anything he could as he fell. Unfortunately for her, Morgan happened to be the only thing in his way before he reached the floor.

The result was a deep gash on her hand, as the kitten’s claws dug into her skin and ripped a four-inch path on it. Of course, Morgan could not see her part of responsibility in the unfolding of the situation that had just occurred. According to her, the kitten – who had been until five minutes before the sweetest cat on earth – was now “stupid” and had hurt her on purpose. Although I tried to explain that the kitten had scratched her by accident as he was falling, she would hear no reasons.

More often than not, many of us entirely blame others when something happens, even when we are partly at fault. It is easier to get angry at someone else than it is to get angry at ourselves, regardless of the fact that we might have facilitated the process, if only by enabling the actions of others.

By assuming responsibility for our part, we fear the spotlight of judgment will instantly shine on us, and expose our weaknesses for all to see. Yet, self-accountability is necessary if one hopes to break the chain. Without accepting that a change of perception is needed within ourselves, we will continue to walk blindly into the same mistakes, and will perpetually stumble into the very same rocks we tripped on before.

Each time we point a finger at someone, it wouldn’t hurt to acknowledge that the rest of them are pointing back to ourselves.

Letters to Myself

“Sir, more than kisses, letters mingle souls; for, thus friends absent speak.” ~John Donne


When I first moved to the States - and hardly knew anyone - I lived to see the mailman’s truck pull up, everyday. I waited by the window with the same eagerness of a child on Christmas Eve, and through the daily deliveries of a skinny Santa dressed in blue I felt a little less alone. Although I was excited at the prospect of starting a new life away from home, I was only nineteen, and I missed my friends and family - through letters, their love and support hugged me like a pair of old familiar arms.

As time went by, the phone calls continued daily, but the letters soon became a thing of the past. I slowly lost touch with several friends, and as phone rates became more affordable, the conversations with my family gradually shifted to a spoken exchange rather than a written one. I still have all the letters, and read them again from time to time.

Yesterday, as I was telling a friend how happy I am about the upcoming publication of my books, she suggested I hang on to some of that happiness. She went on to explain that since she was a little girl, she always wrote notes to her future self, and then saved them for a later time when she would need to hear comforting words.

If she was very happy, she told me, she would write a note in which she shared her good news, and encouraged herself to relive the exhilaration of that happy moment. If, later on, she read the note at a time when she felt a bit low on herself, she could reconnect to what had happened in the past and feel better.

Similarly, if she was very angry or sad, she would write her future self a letter about what upset her. Reading it later, after the storm had passed, showed her that all things are temporary, and are rarely as bad as we think they are while we are going through them.

I found her suggestion totally fascinating. I have written letters to others I wanted to share feelings with before, but I’ve never written anything to myself. How fun would it be now, if I could read letters written during the time when I struggled to adjust to a new way of life, or I got frustrated because of the challenges of speaking a new language? And what about those moments when I felt I could just scream out of sheer happiness, such as when I found out I was going to be a mom, or when my husband proposed?

I wish I could read those letters now. It would certainly be fun to compare my life today to something written so long ago, and it would certainly be encouraging to see that obstacles which appeared at the time as solid bricks on my path were nothing more than removable Legos.

It’s obviously too late to recapture those moments from long ago and put them down on paper right now, but it is definitely possible to begin doing so with my life’s latest happenings. In fact, I think I will start today.