Smile and say, "never again"

If you don’t like how your clay work is going, you can smoosh it and start over. I wish everything was like that. (Image by marcelkessler)

I am trying to collect on a debt of almost $2,000.

I trusted a family to settle up the bill for their child's education, and they have not done so. Call it an "accidental scholarship." They're not responding to my emails.

A situation like this is the result of a breakdown of systems. After years in business, I should know better than to let things get this point, but accounts receivable has never been my strong suit.

However, I'm slowly overcoming longstanding bad habits. I'm learning how to identify these types of situations faster and minimize their negative impact.

So as I clean up the mess on this and several other bad debts, I say to myself, with a grim smile on my face, "never again." It's what you do when you've just microwaved a container of tomato sauce without a lid and you're wiping up the splatters. You smile and say, "never again."

Not every problem can be fixed, but they can all be learned from. When there is no elegant, streamlined solution to be had—when our best attempt to stave off disaster is ungainly and unpleasant—we can at least ensure that it is the last time we'll have to do it this way.

Stuck in holiday weekend traffic because you left at the same time as everyone else for your getaway? Left the puppy unattended, and there's a stinky present for you on the rug? Thought you could finish that paper in three hours and now it's 3 AM? You smile through your tears and say, "Never again" as you deal with your unpleasant circumstances. It's little consolation, but sometimes it's enough.

While you're addressing the present physical reality, your mind can be traveling forward into a future where you've already prevented problems like this from occurring. It's too late for your current self, but your future self is taking notes. That makes the immediate plight feel like a mere blip. It's as though it's already taken care of. That can be oddly soothing.

As an entrepreneur, I love systems, problem solving, and optimization. And yet some things cannot be systemized, solved, or optimized. Instead, they must be endured. It may be too late to do anything about what’s happening. Once I've stopped fighting that truth, I can bear it. I hang onto the belief that, knowing what I know now, I'll only have to be here once.

I used to tolerate all kinds of things that I would never stand for today. I used to set up for recitals by myself: all of the folding chairs, the PA system, the snacks, the flowers, the programs, everything. I had twenty-five teachers who could have contributed, or I could have hired myself an employee. I didn't see these options for getting help.

At least, I didn't see these options until I was in the middle of doing the setup and hating everything and everyone. I began to understand that my misery was of my own making, and things didn't have to be the way they were. With that realization, my "never again" became fuel for changing my life.

Obviously, drawing a line in the sand and saying "never again" doesn't yield immediate results. It might even be a lie. After all, changing our habits is very difficult. But getting clear on what we find unacceptable is a a step in the direction of taking ownership of our choices. This is empowering and motivating, even if we can't completely avoid repeating a given mistake in the future.

I'd like to be a person who can rise above petty frustrations and prevail. I'm getting there. I may have a long list of grievances, but I understand that I'm ultimately responsible for just about all of them. I could waste my energy being angry at myself for my lapses, errors, and failings, but, when possible, I try to focus on what I can do differently moving forward. This brings relief and comfort during dark times, like when I have to pick up hundreds of black beans off of the floor because I was too ambitious with my motor planning. I can smile and say, "never again." Even when it's not true, it helps.