A poem by Jane Tawel
Practice Saying This Out-loud: “I Was Wrong”
By Jane Tawel
January 15, 2021
It’s best to start by practicing.
It makes it much less challenging,
than when you find you’re scrambling,
to just admit you’re wrong.
So, spend a little bit of time
Indulging me in musing rhyme.
I’ll tell you just a thing or two,
‘bout what I’ve learned, and what to do.
Just think of this as my word-song,
‘bout how to just admit we’re wrong.
The sin that humans first found trying,
which led them to the art of lying,
was when the truth they tried to hide,
because they could not swallow pride.
Oh, yes, it’s happened since The Garden,
that people hunker down and harden,
their hearts from love and friends from pardon.
We often skew reality.
and won’t concede our vanity.
We cling like fools to fallacies
and won’t admit we’re wrong.
So, find a rock, a toad, a cup,
and then, like I, just pucker up,
and kiss your pride into tomorrow.
Believe me, you’ll have much less sorrow,
when harsh or sweet,
you just repeat:
“I was quite wrong.”
“Why, I was wrong!”
“Oh, dear, I’m wrong!”
“I’m wrong, wrong, wrong.”
Please don’t prolong,
your mad insistence
to the resistance
of error’s existence.
Not one of us is bullet-proof,
We all misstep, miscue, or goof.
Just let go all your sad pretense.
Admit that you have made offense.
Or just admit you’ve joined the throng,
’Cause all of us are often wrong.
I promise you,
You’ll make it through.
Don’t fret or sweat it,
’cause soon you’ll get it.
And while it never will be easy
and saying “sorry” still makes me queasy;
I’ve found the more I admit error,
I see the world as brighter, fairer,
and full of possibility.
There is a real nobility,
in owning up and changing course.
Humility can be the force
for conquering lies or selfishness.
In meekness lies contentedness.
One finds a true sense of real peace,
and harmony and joy increase.
When I admit a sin or blunder,
The World is once more full of wonder.
We always fear our pride will hurt more,
than owning up to faults we once swore,
were worth the price of any war
or hurting someone we adore.
But was it worth it? Was it really?
To hang on to such touchy-feely
Anxious, angry, set in stone,
Points of View we’ve now outgrown?
Are the attitudes that mar
really who we truly are?
Or are we more than attitudes?
Worth more than old cheap platitudes?
Could we not give up foolish feuds?
And seek whole souls of gratitude?
In mind, and heart, and soul
We often fib or troll
for scoring points and goals
not being kind or whole.
Wholeness and peace will come
only to few and some,
admit to be,
(and here I hope you’ll say with me)
“I guess I’m wrong. I was so wrong.
Well, I was just plain wrong.”
Give up the fight,
to still be right;
and then despite,
how much it pains,
our small, weak brains,
to lose false gains;
You’ll find with me,
you’re much more free,
when easily and strong,
you just admit, “I’m wrong.”
So, before you court disgrace
ending up with egg on face;
or by sin, flub, or mistake,
time and loves become heartaches;
I highly find and recommend
that some good practice time you spend,
by looking at the sky or mirror,
and thinking of your wrongs and errors.
You’ll find yourself so much more strong,
by practicing these words: “I’m wrong.”
Be brave my fellow travelers.
Be truthful, pliant, cavalier.
By owning up and making right,
Forgive yourself for hurts and slights.
Find those you’ve hurt when you were vicious
and ask them too, for their forgiveness.
And as a bonus and a plus,
you’ll find there’s quite a few of us,
who want to grow, and learn, and see
that even when we don’t agree,
There’s more to life than being right;
And if we know that, we just might,
be able to have the real faith,
that we can actually heal this place.
The earth and beasts and foes and kin
need us to swallow our chagrin.
Admitting wrong’s where we begin.
Then we might chance to win this fight,
of making Eden once more right.
Oh, I have learned,
goodness is earned,
by owning up to errors,
and playing with others fairer.
I’m learning how to be,
a humbler, more “right” me.
So, I don’t plan on quitting,
My habit of admitting
That just like you, I might,
Not always be quite right.
By letting go of being mulish,
and fear of looking dumb or foolish,
I’ve freed myself from stubbornness,
and from rank ego, found egress.
“Bye-bye!” I cry
to stubborn pride.
I’ve said, “So long!
to fearing I was wrong.”
And while I still expect
I’ll suffer and afflict
my human need to be correct;
I know I’m not yet perfect.
But still, I’ve been effected
When my pride is subjected
To thoughts I have inspected
To judge they’re still respected.
If I can loose my hold
on lies I have been told
or on the way it used to be —
Oh, I am much more free!
And as a plus? — I am a better “Me”.
I aim by this daft tome of mine,
To lure you in with endless rhyme.
And let you glimpse the ebb and flow,
Of how it feels to let pride go.
Perhaps you’ll find as I have done,
That one can actually have some fun,
with making poetry or pun
about the errors we cling to.
I hope you’ll have the same break-through,
as I keep trying still to do.
However you decide to try it,
I hope my patter helps you buy it,
that giving up on being proud,
and practicing these words out-loud,
will help you be a better you.
Whatever you decide to do,
I hope you’ll find your way to Truth.
And just like I,
You too might find
The Way is better,
when we aren’t fettered
by always feeling we’re correct;
Instead of trying to connect
to Life’s eternal mystery.
Oh, won’t you journey forth with me —
(And maybe take a friend along)?
Just scream it out, or write a song,
But for God’s sake, please don’t prolong
admitting: “I was wrong”.
©Jane Tawel 2021