Mistakes That Made Me Grow

Richard Needham, in his book The Wit and Wisdom of Richard Needham, says that strong people make as many and as ghastly mistakes as weak people. The difference is that strong people admit them, laugh at them, learn from them. That is how they become strong.

That insight from Richard Needham has set me thinking about the mistakes I have made so far. And unlike before when I would feel guilty about committing those mistakes, I will now laugh at them. Let me tell you about some of the mistakes, if you don't mind the time.

Earlier in this decade, when I was excited, I would text people, telling them loads of nonsense. In 2011 for instance, I SMSed my fellow choristers at All Saints' Cathedral. And yikes! Some of them didn't take my messages kindly. One even replied that she was feeling harassed.

A month or so later, the choristers who weren't impressed by the messages I had been sending them summoned me for a meeting during which they expressed their displeasure at what I had been telling them. I must have been a foolish young man given the way I continued texting people whenever I felt exhilarated.

Besides texting people, I was also fond of phoning my friends when I was on cloud nine. One evening in 2013, I called a high school classmate of mine called Lawrence Sikuku who is now a doctor. I somehow came to like Lawrence during our high school years; that's why I gave him a buzz.

Guess what! When Lawrence received my call, I spoke loudly about irrelevant stuff. Imagine in spite of me talking loudly, Lawrence complained that he couldn't hear me properly. Maybe network issues came into play but I am thinking the reason he couldn't hear me properly was because I was telling him silly things in an unkind way.

Later on when I realized I hadn't impressed Lawrence, I tried to make up for my error by phoning him again. I intended to converse with him in a calm, relaxed way about relevant stuff in order to show him that I had matured up. He didn't receive my calls.

I really don't know what made me chatty whenever I felt euphoric. Perhaps I suffered from manic-depressive disorder, a mental illness that makes people overly talkative during manic periods, often going rapidly from one topic of conversation to another.

Having made such mistakes as being loquacious when feeling happy, I am now endeavouring to control my enthusiasm during my high moments. I am making an effort of refraining from talking and writing too much. And I have resolved to be asking myself before communicating, "Does the other person need to hear this?"

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