Sorry

THE TWIN JEWISH HIGH HOLIDAYS of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur (which begins at sundown tonight) call on each adherent of the faith to engage in a personal reckoning -- with ourselves and with others. It is the beginning of a new year, a time to think back on what we did last year and to start fresh for the next one. In some ways, it is something like an annual staff planning retreat.

On Yom Kippur -- or the Day of Atonement -- it is traditional to grapple our transgressions, big and small. (It's sort of like the concept of confession in the Catholic tradition and "jihad" in Islam, which I'm told is really about a struggle to improve one's self and society, not, as we have come to regard it only, as "holy war".) And, as part of that tradition, Jews are required to apologize to others against whom they have transgressed.

That's what I'd like to do here, albeit at a certain remove from the people to whom I'm apologizing. I admit I'm cutting corners to list my generic apologies all at once to an anonymous list of people. No excuses about that, especially as I've learned the hard way that the best way to settle an interpersonal conflict is through an direct appeal. In this sort of business, retail is far superior to wholesale. A blog post is no substitute for a face-to-face encounter or even a phone call. But here goes anyway:

I'm sorry for my impatience. Sometimes it's a function of my being in a hurry and just wanting what I need from someone quickly, not everything but. Sometimes it stems from my disappointment with their behavior, their not trying hard enough or their limitations (see my blog posts on customer service). Sometimes I'm just acting a little too superior to give them the regard they deserve.

I'm sorry for misjudging people. Often, it's because of my lack of patience (see above) to learn more, to understand truly whom I'm dealing with and what he or she has to offer. At other times, I just haven't gotten all the information I need to make a fair judgment. This happens usually with new people I work to whom I do not give sufficient time, energy or responsibilities because I don't trust their abilities enough. It is the sin of underestimation.

But underestimation is not the only type of misjudgment. At first thought, it would seem that underestimation of a person is a greater transgression than overestimation. But the more I think of it, we likely do just as much harm to those we misjudge (and ourselves) with overestimation than those we underestimate. We mislead and devalue them both just the same. I've found that when I think more of someone than he or she actually deserves, I risk offending that person once I begin reeling in my expectations and the benefits that come with that. It is much easier to step our expectations of those who prove us more valuable than we originally thought.

I'm sorry for inattentiveness. Too often, at home and at work, I'm stung by someone who says, "I just told you that the other day/a few minutes ago. Were you even listening?" or "I sent you an e-mail about that. Didn't you see it?" The fact is, I usually try to pay attention to everything I can. No excuses, but, c'mon, I can't keep up with everything, especially in a world where many of us are awash in information, queries, reminders, updates. And, perhaps because there is so much demanding my attention on a given day, I forget a lot of stuff. I wish sometimes they would have a bit more patience with me (see above again). I'm only human, right?

But there are times when, for example, I furtively (or so I think) steal a look at the Blackberry when I should be sharing the same precious moment with my family, tune into the song or news report on the car radio when I should be listening to something much more important from the passenger seat, or think about where I'm going for lunch or the lyrics of a song I like when I should focus on the 57-slide PowerPoint presentation someone's giving in front of me at a meeting. Again, I'm only human, but that's no consolation to the people who are counting on my attention. Sorry about that.

I'm sorry for not being there. This is more to family and friends than anyone else. As I once wrote here, the biggest riddle in my life -- as it is for so many -- is the tug between the responsibilities of work and family/personal fulfillment. For some of us, the balance is lopsided disproportionately in favor of work, for others family. I try my best to keep the two sides in balance, to give both parts of my life everything I can without sacrificing either.

I noted in that old blog post that, in a wonderfully insightful 1996 New York Times Op-Ed, former U.S. Labor Secretary Robert Reich observed, "There's no way of getting work and family into better balance. You're inevitably shortchanging one or the other, or both. You're never able to do enough of what you truly value." (Read the whole piece, if you can.) Alas, I think he is absolutely right about that. On one level, it is a relief to tell myself that I'm doing everything that I can.

But on another, I'm really sorry that I'm not there for everything that my kids, wife, mother, sister and other relatives are going through -- whether it is a moment of joy or struggle or just the routine working out of life. I'd like to think they need me all the time, though they seem to do just fine when I'm not there. And it's not only for them that I feel this, of course, but for me, too. I want to be there, and I hate that feeling of not being helpful or present.

This is almost certainly not the full catalog of sins for which I need to atone after the sun sets tonight and before it sets again tomorrow night. But they are the ones that come to mind right now. And, though you may find this hard to believe, but I can't come up with anything more severe than these. I'll let others judge whether or not I'm repressing something more meaningful. Conveniently, the Yom Kippur liturgy calls for the entire group of worshipers to "admit" collectively to an entire litany of sins -- some of them quite serious -- lest we are unable to verbalize them or see them in ourselves.

Still, to those I have wronged in these ways and others I don't recall (and I hope you all know who you are), sorry. I'll try better this coming year.

Jeff

Comments

[Joyce Lyon]

Hi Jeff,
I think you've owned up to and dealt with far more sins than most folks would admit to. I personally like your list and think I'll create one of my own in a similar fashion. Have an easy fast. Love, Joyce

[Jay Rehak]

Nice reflection. I find today to be a very powerful day. I believe the ability to say "I'm sorry" is what redeems us.

Thanks for your honesty and clarity.

[Rinky]

Ditto ,Jeff. I have many of same sins to admit to that you do and I'll say that I'm sorry on the coattails of your Blog. Mostly, I guess, to my family who I am often short with. I'm sorry. I can't think of other things right now while I'm still fasting. Otherwise, I'm just perfect. What do you call the sin for thinking that?

[Julie]

Jeff,
You are forgiven.
Your sister, Julie

[Beth Sperber Richie]

I think it's true that if we're really lucky and love our work and our families then day in and day out we have to make the painful choice between two things we value, both of which deserve our full attention. Neither of which can have our full attention.

Sometimes just taking a moment each day to pay attention to what we're doing helps. Even if you can't give family or work your full attention all day you can give each your full attention while you are there. That's not a perfect answer and I'm regularly sorry that I can't give either my full attention, too.

Thanks for sharing this post.

[Moshe Avram]

Jeff

Much obliged. On a related note, check out this piece on fasting over at The Frontal Cortex: http://scienceblogs.com/cortex/2009/09/fasting.php