I woke up last night with jabbing self-criticism and a deep sense of shame. It was related to an event I hosted yesterday.
Cuddle Sanctuary’s monthly alumni calls invite former students to talk shop and support each other. I often offer ideas, experience, tips and suggestions born out of years of doing this work.
One student posed a terrific question, but my answer wasn’t solid. It really wasn’t the best approach. The group and I workshopped ideas on how to handle the situation. A few terrific options emerged.
The Zoom call is always recorded. I typically send the people who couldn’t attend – the majority of them – a recording the next day. But the idea of sending off video proof that I – a person who certifies folks to lead events – was so stymied, is vulnerable.
In the light of day, I feel better. (Especially after reaching out for support.) But the crux of the shame is that I do not, in fact, know it all. Even though I apparently think that I should.
This past month has delivered to me – time and again – a whole lot of humility. It’s almost like a version of myself is crumbling away. It doesn’t feel pretty.
Today I decided to make the most of it. I went to the famous Apple Pan restaurant here in Los Angeles and got myself some pie.
I figure if I’m going to eat humble pie, it may as well be delicious.