Success, failure both require reflection

I messed up. I made two clear mistakes. I was defensive and avoided a legitimate question, compounding that by using the insulting conversation blocker, “You missed my point.” The person really hadn’t missed my point and I know better than to disrespect a person like that. I knew I had messed up when I walked out of the room, and justifiably got called on my bad behavior. My first reaction was more defensiveness. I reasoned all the ways that the other people were responsible and got angry with them for the way they “made” me react. An hour later, coming to grips with my offensive behavior, I felt horrible. That horrible feeling hung on for a couple of days. My regrets threatened to overwhelm me until I worked up the courage to apologize. But even then, I was full of regret and recrimination, finding it very difficult to forgive myself. Reflecting on all the times I messed up as an executive and as an employee, my rudeness, my snappishness and my inability to listen became obvious. I beat myself up for my quick assumptions and for the times I thought ill of people, flogging myself for my self-interest and for my recalcitrance. I was so full of regret and felt so bad it made me wonder why I even write this column if I can’t behave better. Gradually, I began to realize that’s the point. I write this column because I do know failure as a leader and as an employee. I write this column because I have messed up countless times and will do so many times in the future. I write this column because I believe that we all mess up constantly and we will only get better if we own up to that and reflect on ways to improve. A past acquaintance, who is retired, wrote to say nice things about the column. “There have been a number of times I have thought, ‘Gee, I wish I had thought of that back when.”’ I have that experience every time I sit down to write. Things that seem crystal clear now never seemed that clear when I was in the heat of battle. As human beings, we all succeed and fail, succeed and fail. It’s our nature. The challenge is to reflect on both the successes and the failures in a way that allows us to get better. Our failures should not prevent us from putting together a plan to correct our errors. I recently read an article by Todd R. Nelson in The Christian Science Monitor. He discussed a new book called “Making Good: How Young People Cope with Moral Dilemmas at Work.” The authors, researchers at Harvard University’s Graduate School of Education, found three guideposts to good work ethics: “Mission, models and the mirror test.” Nelson wrote, “In other words, good workers tended to have the sense that they were serving a broader community, often had attached themselves to good role models, and were able to reflect on what their professional ethical decisions said about them.” That last one is called the mirror test. That is, simply, “When you look at yourself in the mirror, are you proud of the kind of worker you are?” Some will look into that mirror and be confident that they measure up in every way. Others will look into the mirror on some days and know they need to get better, and that has to be OK. It is important for us to seek forgiveness when we mess up, but it is crucial that we forgive ourselves. We must be able to constructively reflect on our weakness and errors. It makes no sense to beat ourselves up to the point that we forsake our efforts to improve. Our resolve to be better in the workplace and to seek justice for co-workers, customers and owners requires us to find the courage to correct our failures. Tip for your search: Vulnerability is the key to improvement. You must be able to reflect on your own weaknesses and failures rather than obsess about other people’s failures. Next time you mess up, try to get past blaming other people and genuinely consider what you can do to avoid such a problem in the future. Resource for your search: “Making Good: How Young People Cope with Moral Dilemmas at Work” by Wendy Fischman, Becca Solomon, Deborah Greenspan and Howard Gardner (Harvard University Press, 2004)