I haven't updated my blog for a while due to the busyness of life, but a series of recent events has got me thinking about the power of our attitude and how we choose to view the things that happen to us.
Shame and embarassment are very interesting emotions. Sometimes I feel as though I've reached rock-bottom in terms of my level of self-embarassment. For those of you who know me, I can do very clumsy and embarassing things which fortunately tend to entertain rather than repel my friends away. For example, my housemates have the joyous opportunity of witnessing the breakage of many household objects and appliances. Perhaps 'many' is too strong a quantifier, but I certainly have broken a few. First of all there's the microwave I witnessed expulsing yellow fumes after attempting to heat up my brownie inside. Then there's the chopping board I melted a big hole in the middle of. Not to mention the plates I've cracked or the mug handles I've broken off. It's amazing the unconditional love my housemates have for me. I hope Santa will be very good to them this year.
Since I always seem to be breaking things, or tripping over things, or tripping over tree roots on my way to fancy Valentine's Day dinners and beautifully grazing my knee through my beautiful Valentine's Day tights, or using inappropriate words without realising their connotations (in both languages), I felt as though I must have been purged of all my shame and embarassment. That is, until yesterday happened.
Yesterday is like a blur. All I remember is the flash of colleague breaking into the toilet cubicle as I was perched inside, minding my own business. I was at work and had innocently gone to the teacher's toilet during interval. Extreme tiredness had obviously heightened by acute sense of headlessness as I had forgotten to turn the key which locks the door. In my opinion, there is not much which is more embarassing than having a senior colleague see you in that subservient state of being. I realised that I certainly wasn't immune to feelings of shame and embarassment. Those emotions boiled away inside, pulpifying my inner organs into mush, along with my spirit and soul. I wanted to run away. I wondered how I was going to redeem myself in her estimation. Even worse; I would have to face her again straight away as I was about to go to her class to teach their 'atelier d'anglais.' I phoned one of my closest friends and ended up speaking to her boyfriend about my terrible ordeal. Having off-loaded it onto someone outwith the situation, I battled inside over what I was going to say to her when I saw her. "It wasn't me," or, "The dog ate it," didn't seem like appropriate excuses in this situation. Instead, I decided to turn it into a massive source of amusement for all concerned. I would laugh it off. So when the teacher entered, I smiled, laughed, apologised, and she smiled and laughed and assured me that I would never forget to lock the toilet again. I think she can hardly know me at all. I'm sure it will happen again, at least once in my life. And I will have to experience this same level of shame and embarassment.
However, I feel as though there has been a vital lesson to learn from this experience. It has been both humbling and edifying. First of all, I will take extra caution at St Aignan to turn the key in the door before I presume the door is locked. Also, I have learnt that no matter how low you fall, you can still fall lower. You can always be more embarassing. Embarassment is good for the soul because it humbles you. The things which I do which embarass myself are good for other people because they entertain and amuse. Also, I once heard that when you are able to laugh at yourself, you can consider yourself a fully-grown adult. Uh-oh, guess that means I'm an adult. When did THAT happen??
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