Two words: “I’m sorry”. Three if you count the contraction as two words.
Short, simple, yet for some reason so difficult to say.
I can’t explain why, but my experience is that saying “I’m sorry” seems to be the most difficult thing for many people to do. Cross a desert with no water? Sure! Swim across the ocean? No problem! Say you’re sorry? Forget it.
Lips clench, brows furrow. It’s like you asked them to sacrifice their own life.
I’m not sure why, but for as long as I can remember, I haven’t been afraid to say “I’m sorry” when I do something wrong. To be sure, “as long as I can remember” is not as long for me as for some. I’m sure that my mother could regale with tale upon tale of times that I was a stick in the mud and refused to apologize.
Maybe people think that apologizing is humiliating. Most of the time, apologizing when I do wrong is not humiliating. While it’s an admission that I’m not perfect, and fallible, I don’t ever profess to be either of those things. Saying I’m sorry is as much for the other as it is for me. For the one that I’ve wronged, it’s a way for me to recognize that I fell short in some way. By omission or commission, I was responsible for something that caused harm or pain or inconvenience to someone else. When I apologize, it’s my way of recognizing that the other person has value.
For me, saying “I’m sorry” reminds me that I’m not perfect. There are times when I get too big for my britches, as they used to say, and I think that I know everything, or at least more than those around me. Sometimes it’s true, more often it’s not.
My gut says that it’s pride that prevents people from saying “I’m sorry”. When I contemplate that for more than about 15 seconds, I don’t think that’s completely accurate. While pride might factor in the mix, somehow I think that failure and imperfection have become so frowned upon that to admit error is to lose face. For some reason, we believe that if we are wrong, or fail in one area, that means that we’re wrong or failures in every area.
To me that way of thinking is so misguided as to be harmful and dangerous. Failure can be so useful. Without failure most of the things we enjoy would have never come to be. But that’s at the macro level. What about the micro level?
When two people try to come through a doorway at the same time, why is our instinct to get mad at the other for bumping, rather than just a quick “Excuse me”, or “I’m sorry”. Those should be the times that are the easiest to apologize. There was no intent to harm. We just timed things wrong. Saying I’m sorry then doesn’t make me an idiot for not knowing better, but it gives me the opportunity to let you know that I didn’t mean to bump you and feel bad for doing so.
When we have done something wrong, even though it may be humiliating, apologizing is even more important. Admitting that we do things wrong is good for our soul and psyche. It puts us in perspective with those around us. Apologizing doesn’t even necessarily mean that a person was wrong. I can be right about something and need to apologize for treating someone badly.
I’m a member of an ELCA congregation. At the beginning of every service, we have a confession that goes:
Most merciful God,
We confess
That we are captive to sin
And cannot free ourselves.
We have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed,
By what we have done
And by what we have left undone.
We have not loved you
With our whole heart;
We have not loved
Our neighbors as ourselves…
We begin our worship by recognizing that we have wronged God and those around us (our neighbors). It is a good way to begin worship. Even though we don’t itemize, we recognize that we are fallible humans and do wrong.
My kids are in high school and junior high now. They each have groups of friends. We all know that at some points there will be tension and possibly a falling out. I want to be sure to teach my kids that it’s important to apologize when they hurt someone. It doesn’t matter whether we meant it or not. That’s how I want my kids to be.
I’ve had to stand in front of fairly large groups and apologize. I think that the most memorable was the second summer that I worked at Camp Evergreen. Through the spring period, I had a bad attitude and was not pleasant to be around. I was bitter for not getting the position that I wanted and thought that I deserved.
I was going to quit and told my boss. We had a long heart to heart about what was going on and the options that I had before me. I ended up realizing that my attitude was a significant part of the problem. I wanted to stay and work there. Together we made some alternate arrangements that would satisfy the camp’s need for its positions to be filled and my desire for something different. That night I stood before all of the staff (around 25 people) and apologized for the bad attitude that I had and the ways that my attitude and behavior hurt them and/or created more work or headache for them.
That was one of the best work experiences that I’ve ever had.
In no scientific way whatsoever, I sometimes think that apologizing is to our heart and soul what resistance training is to our muscles. They stretch, tear and reform stronger than before.
I’d like to encourage you, my reader, to try this. The next time you accidentally bump someone (or get bumped because who is really to say who bumped whom?), or in some way you cause pain or harm to someone, say sorry. I think that you’ll be glad you did.
If you want, please share a story that you have of a time where saying sorry, or someone apologizing to you made a difference.
Cover image courtesy of pixabay.com