There comes a time in all of our lives when we are forced to face the music. To not only hear, but feel, experience, that which we have been dreading. It can come in many different shapes and forms. A lie exposed, a mistake uncovered, even an honest effort that missed it’s mark, it doesn’t really matter. All that matters is something went wrong, and we have to accept it. For those who relish in feedback and constructive criticism, this is no big deal. These are the types who put forth and honest effort and are willing to give it another go, better and smarter. Alas, they make up the minority. For the rest of us, we’d prefer to put our noise cancelling headphones in to drown out the marching band surrounding us.
We have to hear about the flaws in our actions, because that is the only way we can really grow. But it is difficult. In order to do this we have to separate ourselves from our actions. Just because you made mistake on that spreadsheet doesn’t mean you as a person are a mistake. You just made a mistake, that’s all. How you deal with that mistake is the real test. You could put the blame on someone else, you could try to hide the mistake, you could try all sorts of things, none of which are the right choice. Because the only right choice is to own the mistake. Fess up, learn your lesson, and move on. The music isn’t so loud then. It’s a busker on the street on your way to the coffee shop. Take it in stride. Throw your dollar in the hat and get on with your day. The busker will stay where they are, continuing to play for all the other passersby. But if you choose to block it out, well, then you’ve started something.
That busker will follow you around. Though his tune won’t be as smooth and melodic as when you first heard it—he is walking after all—it will be peppered with wrong notes and feel oddly out of rhythm, just as your life will be for not addressing what you must. Should you choose to continue down the path of denial and cover-ups, that busker will send a call for this friends. Every choice you make that is not the righteous choice adds another instrument to the band. Though a band isn’t really the right word for it. A band is unified, a joining of many sounds to make one. What you’ll create is more of a traveling warm up for a junior high band. Haphazard horns and cymbals crashing all over the place. At times you might recognize a hint of a melody, but there is too many other things going on to focus. This is your mind, trying to keep the stories straight. You can’t make sense of it all. Yes you can try to drown it out, but those musicians will follow you until you address them. When you finally stop and face the music. Get your mind back on track. Straighten out the story with the truth and let those buskers return to their corners, they weren’t ones for a collaborative effort anyway. Then you can get on with your day, and your life, better than you were before.
scott ironmonger 