Hindsight is not 20/20. At least mine isn’t, especially my hindsight of past conversations. My hindsight compiles a list of things I should have said and didn’t or shouldn’t have said and did.
“I should have invited her up for tea when she asked if this was my street.”
“I should have complimented her on how nice she looked; I noticed she made an effort.”
“I shouldn’t have made that comment about Islam.”
That’s what I focus on. How I should have made better use of the conversation. As I turn with a finger poised to shake at the past me, my hindsight narrows to tunnel vision.
Because, more often than not, I’m forgetting the other factors involved.
It could be that I already had plans with a neighbor and only when the other plans were canceled did I remember the interaction on the street.
It could be that our interaction at the noisy gathering was so brief that I only had time to ask her about the exams she had been studying for when I last saw her.
It could be that after my friends spent twenty minutes complaining about Muslim men, they ganged up on me to marry me off. And I made that split second decision to speak directly rather than lose the moment in the rush of conversation by taking the time to formulate an indirect response.
I want to learn from my mistakes. However, when I get analytical about what was said or not said, I need to pause long enough to remember the other factors involved: the distractions, the mind noise, the body language of the other person, etc.
Then slowly, a shameful, paralyzing memory is seasoned with grace. Only then can I step forward because remembering truthfully is the best way to learn from mistakes.
Photo by Laura Fuhrman on Unsplash