“It’s me. Sir,
it’s my fault. There is no one else to blame. I did it. Did you hear me, sir?
It’s my fault!”
These words pushed out
of my mouth as I was being berated, at a very large volume, at a very close
proximity, with coffee still on his breath, with many colourful words, on a
very busy Vancouver street corner, with a whole lot of people looking on. He
went up one side of me and down the other. I knew with ample awareness and
bountiful description that we, I, had created a mess.
I had committed the
unpardonable sin by not delivering, on time, an entire job site’s paycheques on
payday morning. This was long before Direct Deposit; in fact, this one
occurrence may well be the reason for Direct Deposit. You’re welcome.
Yah, I would have been
mad at me too!
It was a simple
mistake. No, it really was. I was supposed to deliver 711’s paycheques to their
new location just under construction. The complicator? The job site was
directly across the main intersection from the 711 store that was already
there. I had delivered similar packages many times before. When I went to the
store to give it to the person who’s name was on the parcel, the store
attendant knew nothing of it and wouldn’t sign for it.
The simple solution
was to deliver it to the correct address right across the street. But, who
needs an address when you have the name like 711 directly on the package? So
the next best solution was to take it back to the depot and let it be
reprocessed from there. Had it been for something of lesser importance, that
might have been the correct procedure, but not for this, and not for this
Then, to make matters
worse, I finished my deliveries early, so I went for a leisurely lunch. My
boss, who was almost unglued, rudely interrupted my solace when I got back to
my truck. He required that I end my leisure immediately and deliver this
package to the rightful owner, who would have had plenty of time to practice
his communication skills. This was all done over the 2-way radio (before
personal cell phones) with all my colleagues to hear.
So, 2.5 hours past the
intended delivery time, the encounter.
Before this encounter,
I had recently learned that when you make a mess, you have to own it. I didn’t
realize then that I would be part of a practical exercise in this skill.
It absolutely worked.
When the construction boss finally heard me, he immediately calmed and then
lamely apologized for his overreaction. We were good, my company was saved, and
I learned a LIFE Lesson with far-reaching applications.
When you screw-up, you
have to own your stuff.
“So, the first step to getting free from conflict and staying free is for us to come out of denial and correctly process our lives. We need to live transparent lives by owning our stuff, our actions.” (Sovdi, Philip. Path Out: Eliminate the Swirl (Page 12). Kindle Edition.)https://philsovdi.com/book-offer/