Admit Your Own Mistakes Quotes

Nothing is more intolerable than to have admit to yourself your own errors.

I may own every breath in your body, but make no mistake, Adeline, you own mine, too. I am yours to command. To bend and break. To mold and manipulate. Do you think that makes me weak? Or do you think I'm strong enough to admit that even though my body can physically live on without you, I would never get my fucking soul back?

Don't argue for other people's weaknesses. Don't argue for your own. When you make a mistake, admit it, correct it, and learn from it / immediately.

Often the greatest act of courage is admitting that one has made a mistake. [...] Follow your hearts. Protect one another, trust one another, because, at the end of the day, all of these people want something from you, or want you to do something for them, or be something that you are not. Your own responsibility is to one another.

Admitting a mistake is not a weakness; on the contrary, it shows an openness of your heart. It takes guts to say sorry. Only a strong and well-balanced individual with clarity of mind can do so effortlessly. Taking responsibility for your actions requires and develops your self-control. You become your own person.

Damon spoke without moving. “I’m not like you.” “You’re not as different from us as you want to think,” Matt said. “Look,” he added, an odd note of challenge in his voice, “I know you killed Mr. Tanner in self-defense, because you told me. And I know you didn’t come here to Fell’s Church because Bonnie’s spell dragged you here, because I sorted the hair and I didn’t make any mistakes. You’re more like us than you admit, Damon. The only thing I don’t know is why you didn’t go into Vickie’s house to help her.” Damon snapped, almost automatically, “Because I wasn’t invited!” Memory swept over Bonnie. Herself standing outside Vickie’s house, Damon standing beside her. Stefan’s voice: Vickie, invite me in. But no one had invited Damon. “But how did Klaus get in, then—?” she began, following her own thoughts. “That was Tyler’s job, I’m sure,” Damon said tersely. “What Tyler did for Klaus in return for learning how to reclaim his heritage. And he must have invited Klaus in before we ever started guarding the house—probably before Stefan and I came to Fell’s Church. Klaus was well prepared. That night he was in the house and the girl was dead before I knew what was happening.” “Why didn’t you call for Stefan?” Matt said. There was no accusation in his voice. It was a simple question. “Because there was nothing he could have done! I knew what you were dealing with as soon as I saw it. An Old One. Stefan would only have gotten himself killed—and the girl was past caring, anyway.” Bonnie heard the thread of coldness in his voice, and when Damon turned back to Stefan and Elena, his face had hardened. It was as if some decision had been made. “You see, I’m not like you,” he said. “It doesn’t matter.” Stefan had still not withdrawn his hand. Neither had Elena.

Go now, and live. Experience. Dream. Risk. Close your eyes and jump. Enjoy the freefall. Choose exhilaration over comfort. Choose magic over predictability. Choose potential over safety. Wake up to the magic of everyday life. Make friends with your intuition. Trust your gut. Discover the beauty of uncertainty. Know yourself fully before you make promises to another. Make millions of mistakes so that you will know how to choose what you really need. Know when to hold on and when to let go. Love hard and often and without reservation. Seek knowledge. Open yourself to possibility. Keep your heart open, your head high and your spirit free. Embrace your darkness along with your light. Be wrong everyday once in a while, and don't be afraid to admit it. Awaken to the brilliance in ordinary moments. Tell the truth about yourself no matter what the cost. Own your reality without apology. See goodness in the world. Be Bold. Be Fierce. Be Grateful. Be Wild, Crazy and Gloriously Free. Be You. Go now, and live.

You did wrong and the wrong doesn't owe you anything. I'm not going to wipe your nose just because you come from a broken home and you think that gives you a license to behave badly. I call it the "Fuck up, own up and get up" policy. Make a mistake, admit it, and move on. We all screw up, but a man solves his problems. He doesn't make them worse.

Don't argue for other people's weaknesses. Don't argue for your own. When you make a mistake, admit it, correct it, and learn from it immediately

Reader: Will you not admit that you are arguing against yourself? You know that what the English obtained in their own country they obtained by using brute force. I know you have argued that what they have obtained is useless, but that does not affect my argument. They wanted useless things and they got them. My point is that their desire was fulfilled. What does it matter what means they adopted? Why should we not obtain our goal, which is good, by any means whatsoever, even by using violence? Shall I think of the means when I have to deal with a thief in the house? My duty is to drive him out anyhow. You seem to admit that we have received nothing, and that we shall receive nothing by petitioning. Why, then, may we do not so by using brute force? And, to retain what we may receive we shall keep up the fear by using the same force to the extent that it may be necessary. You will not find fault with a continuance of force to prevent a child from thrusting its foot into fire. Somehow or other we have to gain our end. Editor: Your reasoning is plausible. It has deluded many. I have used similar arguments before now. But I think I know better now, and I shall endeavour to undeceive you. Let us first take the argument that we are justified in gaining our end by using brute force because the English gained theirs by using similar means. It is perfectly true that they used brute force and that it is possible for us to do likewise, but by using similar means we can get only the same thing that they got. You will admit that we do not want that. Your belief that there is no connection between the means and the end is a great mistake. Through that mistake even men who have been considered religious have committed grievous crimes. Your reasoning is the same as saying that we can get a rose through planting a noxious weed. If I want to cross the ocean, I can do so only by means of a vessel; if I were to use a cart for that purpose, both the cart and I would soon find the bottom. "As is the God, so is the votary", is a maxim worth considering. Its meaning has been distorted and men have gone astray. The means may be likened to a seed, the end to a tree; and there is just the same inviolable connection between the means and the end as there is between the seed and the tree. I am not likely to obtain the result flowing from the worship of God by laying myself prostrate before Satan. If, therefore, anyone were to say : "I want to worship God; it does not matter that I do so by means of Satan," it would be set down as ignorant folly. We reap exactly as we sow. The English in 1833 obtained greater voting power by violence. Did they by using brute force better appreciate their duty? They wanted the right of voting, which they obtained by using physical force. But real rights are a result of performance of duty; these rights they have not obtained. We, therefore, have before us in English the force of everybody wanting and insisting on his rights, nobody thinking of his duty. And, where everybody wants rights, who shall give them to whom? I do not wish to imply that they do no duties. They don't perform the duties corresponding to those rights; and as they do not perform that particular duty, namely, acquire fitness, their rights have proved a burden to them. In other words, what they have obtained is an exact result of the means they adapted. They used the means corresponding to the end. If I want to deprive you of your watch, I shall certainly have to fight for it; if I want to buy your watch, I shall have to pay you for it; and if I want a gift, I shall have to plead for it; and, according to the means I employ, the watch is stolen property, my own property, or a donation. Thus we see three different results from three different means. Will you still say that means do not matter?

I may own every breath in your body, but make no mistake, Adeline, you own mine, too. I am yours to command. To bend and break. To mold and manipulate. Do you think that makes me weak? Or do you think I'm strong enough to admit that even though my body can physically live on without you, I would never get my fucking soul back?” His hand slides into my hair and fists the strands tightly. "Without you, I will shatter. But with you, I am indestructible.

Own up to your mistakes and apologize for them. Everyone will make a mistake at some point, and the sooner you can admit where you went wrong, the sooner you can start to fix it. Be honest with yourself about yourself and your abilities. Many people accept titles that are beyond their experience to only later find themselves up to their neck in problems they can’t solve, and too embarrassed to admit they weren’t qualified in the first place. And what’s the first rule about holes? If you’re in one, stop digging.

Implementing Extreme Ownership requires checking your ego and operating with a high degree of humility. Admitting mistakes, taking ownership, and developing a plan to overcome challenges are integral to any successful team. Ego can prevent a leader from conducting an honest, realistic assessment of his or her own performance and the performance of the team.

If you have the guts to admit your own fault, Then you are the best.

Do you think needing me somehow makes you weak?” “Doesn't it?” “No, baby, it makes you strong. I may own every breath in your body, but make no mistake, Adeline, you own mine, too. I am yours to command. To bend and break. To mould and manipulate. Do you think that makes me weak? Or do you think I’m strong enough to admit that even though my body can physically live on without you, I would never get my fucking soul back? Without you, I will shatter. But with you,, I am indestructible.

Stay Humble. Often anger comes from our own ego and pride. We don't get our own way and so we get angry. But remember, it's not all about you. :) There are other people on the planet that have wants and needs to. :) If what you want conflicts with what others want, sometime you will have to let them have what they want. Everyone is not here to meet your needs alone. They need to take care of themselves sometimes too. Sometimes anger is an ego trip. It's when we think everyone should cater to our needs and do things our own way. Our pride makes us start to think that it's our way or the highway. But you are not God. No one but God is God. :) You cannot run the universe and you are not perfect. These are all good things to remind ourselves of all the time. Paul says in Romans 12, "Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment." Often times anger comes when we have a high opinion of ourselves and the way we think things SHOULD be done. But no one of is perfect. None of us has a perfect way of doing things. We need to allow for differences in other people and different opinions on things. It is never we are right and everyone else is wrong. We need to admit that sometimes we might be wrong too. Amen. So always remember to stay humble and not think of yourself as being perfect or better than you are. If you are able to see that you too make mistakes all the time, then you will have more grace for other people, and you will then become angry less. Amen.

I may own every breath in your body, but make no mistake, Adeline, you own mine, too. I am yours to command. To bend and break. To mold and manipulate. Do you think that makes me weak? Or do you think I'm strong enough to admit that even though my body can physically live on without you, I would never get my fucking soul back?” His hand slides into my hair and fists the strands tightly. "Without you, I will shatter. But with you, I am indestructible

How many times do I have to say I’m sorry before you believe it? That I acknowledge I made a terrible mistake and have done everything I know how to fix it? How can you just freeze me out after that and walk away from everything we had?” Hurt and resentment swelled inside him, mixing with the anger in a toxic, chaotic mess. “You walked away first,” he shot back. “That was your choice.” Then I made mine. It was a low blow, even if it was true. But he refused to feel guilty about it, even under the circumstances. He hadn’t wanted to have this conversation, but she’d insisted, and he wouldn’t lie to her about the way things stood. Honor’s chin came up, her tears evaporating as her eyes sparked with fresh anger. “I did,” she admitted quietly, her control merely emphasizing the loss of his own. “I did walk away and it was the absolute worst mistake of my life. I’m sorry, Liam. See? I’m a big enough person to admit it to your face. Are you?

That's what I told him you'd say, James bowed his head and sighed. "Jared, you're going to have to start taking responsibility for yourself. You did wrong and the world doesn't owe you anything. I'm not going to wipe your nose just because you come from a broken home and you think that gives you a license to behave badly. I call it the "Fuck up, own up, and get up" policy. Make a mistake, admit it, and move on. We all screw up, but a man solves his problems. He doesn't make them worse.

I will listen first before speaking. “Everyone must be quick to hear, slow to speak and slow to anger” (James 1:19). The one who listens first consistently has the advantage in a fight. You should always approach sensitive issues by respectfully asking questions rather than making assumptions or unleashing accusations. I will deal with my own issues up-front. “Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye?” (Matthew 7:3). If you quickly admit where you were wrong and apologize first, you disarm your spouse and neutralize the ammo they were using against you while leading the way for them to deal with their mistakes as well. I will speak gently and keep my voice down. “A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger” (Proverbs 15:1). People tend to mirror their enemy in a fight. The more intense you get, the more intense they get. The more humble and tender you become, the more humble and tender they become. Let how you are speaking be laced with love regardless of what you are saying.

I should know; perfectionism has always been a weakness of mine. Brene' Bown captures the motive in the mindset of the perfectionist in her book Daring Greatly: "If I look perfect and do everything perfectly, I can avoid or minimize the painful feelings of shame, judgment, and blame." This is the game, and I'm the player. Perfectionism for me comes from the feelings that I don't know enough. I'm not smart enough. Not hardworking enough. Perfectionism spikes for me if I'm going into a meeting with people who disagree with me, or if I'm giving a talk to experts to know more about the topic I do … when I start to feel inadequate and my perfectionism hits, one of the things I do is start gathering facts. I'm not talking about basic prep; I'm talking about obsessive fact-gathering driven by the vision that there shouldn't be anything I don't know. If I tell myself I shouldn't overprepare, then another voice tells me I'm being lazy. Boom. Ultimately, for me, perfectionism means hiding who I am. It's dressing myself up so the people I want to impress don't come away thinking I'm not as smart or interesting as I thought. It comes from a desperate need to not disappoint others. So I over-prepare. And one of the curious things I've discovered is that what I'm over-prepared, I don't listen as well; I go ahead and say whatever I prepared, whether it responds to the moment or not. I miss the opportunity to improvise or respond well to a surprise. I'm not really there. I'm not my authentic self… If you know how much I am not perfect. I am messy and sloppy in so many places in my life. But I try to clean myself up and bring my best self to work so I can help others bring their best selves to work. I guess what I need to role model a little more is the ability to be open about the mess. Maybe I should just show that to other people. That's what I said in the moment. When I reflected later I realized that my best self is not my polished self. Maybe my best self is when I'm open enough to say more about my doubts or anxieties, admit my mistakes, confess when I'm feeling down. The people can feel more comfortable with their own mess and that's needs your culture to live in that. That was certainly the employees' point. I want to create a workplace where everyone can bring the most human, most authentic selves where we all expect and respect each other's quirks and flaws and all the energy wasted in the pursuit of perfection is saved and channeled into the creativity we need for the work that is a cultural release impossible burdens and lift everyone up.

Remus,” said Hermione tentatively, “is everything all right . . . you know . . . between you and—” “Everything is fine, thank you,” said Lupin pointedly. Hermione turned pink. There was another pause, an awkward and embarrassed one, and then Lupin said, with an air of forcing himself to admit something unpleasant, “Tonks is going to have a baby.” “Oh, how wonderful!” squealed Hermione. “Excellent!” said Ron enthusiastically. “Congratulations,” said Harry. Lupin gave an artificial smile that was more like a grimace, then said, “So . . . do you accept my offer? Will three become four? I cannot believe that Dumbledore would have disapproved, he appointed me your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all. And I must tell you that I believe that we are facing magic many of us have never encountered or imagined.” Ron and Hermione both looked at Harry. “Just—just to be clear,” he said. “You want to leave Tonks at her parents’ house and come away with us?” “She’ll be perfectly safe there, they’ll look after her,” said Lupin. He spoke with a finality bordering on indifference. “Harry, I’m sure James would have wanted me to stick with you.” “Well,” said Harry slowly, “I’m not. I’m pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren’t sticking with your own kid, actually.” Lupin’s face drained of color. The temperature in the kitchen might have dropped ten degrees. Ron stared around the room as though he had been bidden to memorize it, while Hermione’s eyes swiveled backward and forward from Harry to Lupin. “You don’t understand,” said Lupin at last. “Explain, then,” said Harry. Lupin swallowed. “I—I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks. I did it against my better judgment and I have regretted it very much ever since.” “I see,” said Harry, “so you’re just going to dump her and the kid and run off with us?” Lupin sprang to his feet: His chair toppled over backward, and he glared at them so fiercely that Harry saw, for the first time ever, the shadow of the wolf upon his human face. “Don’t you understand what I’ve done to my wife and my unborn child? I should never have married her, I’ve made her an outcast!” Lupin kicked aside the chair he had overturned. “You have only ever seen me amongst the Order, or under Dumbledore’s protection at Hogwarts! You don’t know how most of the Wizarding world sees creatures like me! When they know of my affliction, they can barely talk to me! Don’t you see what I’ve done? Even her own family is disgusted by our marriage, what parents want their only daughter to marry a werewolf? And the child—the child—” Lupin actually seized handfuls of his own hair; he looked quite deranged. “My kind don’t usually breed! It will be like me, I am convinced of it—how can I forgive myself, when I knowingly risked passing on my own condition to an innocent child? And if, by some miracle, it is not like me, then it will be better off, a hundred times so, without a father of whom it must always be ashamed!

As she grew up, as her character was built, as she became headstrong rather than pert, and clever enough to know when to hide her cleverness, as she discovered friends and social life and a new kind of loneliness, as she came from country to town and began amassing her future memories, she admitted her mothers's rule: they made their mistakes, now you make your mistakes. And there was a logical consequence of this, which became part of Martha's creed: after the age of twenty-five, you were not allowed to blame anything on your parents. Of course, it didn't apply if your parents had done something terrible - had raped and murdered you and stolen all your money and sold you into prostitution - but in the average course of an average life, if you were averagely competent and averagely intelligent, and more so if you were more so, then you were not allowed to blame your parents. Of course you did, there were times when it was just too tempting. If only they'd bought me roller-skates like they promised, if only they'd let me go out with David, if only they'd been different, more loving, richer, cleverer, simpler. If only they'd been more indulgent; if only they'd been more strict. If only they'd encouraged me more; if only they'd praised me for the right things...None of that. Of course Martha felt it, some of the time, wanted to cuddle such resentments, but then she would stop and give herself a talking-to. You're on your own, kid. Damage is a normal part of childhood. Not allowed to blame anything on them anymore. Not allowed.

Well, what happened to your scruples in the woodcutter’s cottage? You knew I thought you’d already left when I went inside.” “Why did you stay,” he countered smoothly, “when you realized I was still there?” In confused distress Elizabeth raked her hair off her forehead. “I knew I shouldn’t do it,” she admitted. “I don’t know why I remained.” “You stayed for the same reason I did,” he informed her bluntly. “We wanted each other.” “I was wrong,” she protested a little wildly. “Dangerous and-foolish!” “Foolish or not,” he said grimly, “I wanted you. I want you now.” Elizabeth made the mistake of looking at him, and his amber eyes captured hers against her will, holding them imprisoned. The shawl she’d been clutching as if it was a lifeline to safety slid from her nerveless hand and dangled at her side, but Elizabeth didn’t notice. “Neither of us has anything to gain by continuing this pretense that the weekend in England is over and forgotten,” he said bluntly. “Yesterday proved that it wasn’t over, if it proved nothing else, and it’s never been forgotten-I’ve remembered you all this time, and I know damn well you’ve remembered me.” Elizabeth wanted to deny it; she sensed that if she did, he’d be so disgusted with her deceit that he’d turn on his heel and leave her. She lifted her chin, unable to tear her gaze from his, but she was too affected by the things he’d just admitted to her to lie to him. “All right,” she said shakily, “you win. I’ve never forgotten you or that weekend. How could I?” she added defensively. He smiled at her angry retort, and his voice gentled to the timbre of rough velvet. “Come here, Elizabeth.” “Why?” she whispered shakily. “So that we can finish what we began that weekend.” Elizabeth stared at him in paralyzed terror mixed with violet excitement and shook her head in a jerky refusal. “I’ll not force you,” he said quietly, “nor will I force you to do anything you don’t want to do once you’re in my arms. Think carefully about that,” he warned, “because if you come to me now, you won’t be able to tell yourself in the morning that I made you do this against your will-or that you didn’t know what was going to happen. Yesterday neither of us knew what was going to happen. Now we do.” Some small, insidious voice in her mind urged her to obey, reminded her that after the public punishment she’d taken for the last time they were together she was entitled to some stolen passionate kisses, if she wanted them. Another voice warned her not to break the rules again. “I-I can’t,” she said in a soft cry. “There are four steps separating us and a year and a half of wanting drawing us together,” he said. Elizabeth swallowed. “Couldn’t you meet me halfway?” The sweetness of the question was almost Ian’s undoing, but he managed to shake his head. “Not this time. I want you, but I’ll not have you looking at me like a monster in the morning. If you want me, all you have to do is walk into my arms.” “I don’t know what I want,” Elizabeth cried, looking a little wildly at the valley below, as if she were thinking of leaping off the path. “Come here,” he invited huskily, “and I’ll show you.” It was his tone, not his words, that conquered her. As if drawn by a will stronger than her own, Elizabeth walked forward and straight into his arms that closed around her with stunning force. “I didn’t think you were going to do it,” he whispered gruffly against her hair.

All right, you said. You had an idea about the questions: you’d be asked to give a good account of yourself, and to admit to your misdeeds, such as they were. You thought you were ready. You hadn’t been perfect, but then, perfection wouldn’t be expected. Surely not, or who would ever get in? Here are the questions, he said. What is your favourite colour? Did you love your cat? Did you ever find a coin on the pavement? Were you happy? Suddenly it’s the present tense. The first question baffles you. Do you have a favourite colour or not? You can’t remember. Everything you’ve been meaning to say in your own defence has gone right out of your head. Now a wind has begun to blow: ripped posters whirl along the street, open mouths, hands, eyes. Perhaps you should open the rucksack. You never had a cat. What do coins have to do with it? There must be some mistake.

It is okay to be a work in progress. To take the time and work on yourself. It is okay to fail. It is okay to fall. It is okay to feel shame sometimes and be embarrassed. It is okay to own up to your mistakes. To take responsibility for your actions. To understand how your actions influence or hurt others. I promise you, it is okay to say, l don’t know. It is okay to feel afraid. It is okay to admit your fears. It is okay to feel alone. It is okay to talk about your feelings. To talk about how paralyzing your mind is spiraling. It is okay to talk about your wounds, to show off your scars too. It is okay if you take a foot forward today and two steps backwards tomorrow. It is okay to not have it all together. It is okay to admit you’ll never be perfect and to know whoever expects perfection from you doesn’t deserve you. It is okay to accept who you are now. I promise you, it is okay to not be okay. It is okay to be a work in progress. Growth is never linear and that’s okay too.

I don't need you, Zade. I don’t need you to do anything for me." He clutches the back of my neck and pulls me in. "See, that's what we're not going to do, Adeline," he barks, baring his teeth. "We're not going to act like you're so tough that you don't need me anymore. Because you want to know something, baby? There are very few men in this world capable of killing me. And I fucking need you. Do you understand me?" I grit my teeth, refusing to answer. "Do you think needing me somehow makes you weak?" "Doesn't it?" I snap. "No, baby, it makes you strong.” He bends down, putting his face directly into mine. "I may own every breath in your body, but make no mistake, Adeline, you own mine, too. I am yours to command. To bend and break. To mold and manipulate. Do you think that makes me weak? Or do you think I'm strong enough to admit that even though my body can physically live on without you, I would never get my fucking soul back?” His hand slides into my hair and fists the strands tightly. "Without you, I will shatter. But with you, I am indestructible.

She sat back, eyeing the flames now leaping upward to lick at the wooden beams of the ceiling. "If this fire gets out of hand, or if the guards take too long to come, you and I may be in a lot of trouble." "We are already in a lot of trouble." "That was my reasoning, too. Of course, if that happens and the fire gets too big before the mighty citizens of Ringhmon stop it, it'll also gut this little palace and destroy everything inside it. Including the enormously expensive Model Six that I just fixed, which they'll be responsible for paying fo, and probably the other Model Six that they openly own." She shrugged, trying to appear unworried. "That'll teach them to kidnap me. But that won't happen. We'll be fine." "You say that and yet you are frightened." "Yes, I'm frightened! I admit it! Happy? No, wait, Mages are never happy. Just try not to die, all right? I don't want that to be my fault." Alain thought through her words. "I will attempt not to die. Your plan appears to be sound, as well as potentially very destructive. I see that it is a mistake to offend you.

how difficult it is to say, “Boy, did I mess up,” without the protective postscript of self-justification—to say “I dropped a routine fly ball with the bases loaded” rather than “I dropped the ball because the sun was in my eyes” or “because a bird flew by” or “because it was windy” or “because a fan called me a jerk.” A friend returning from a day in traffic school told us that as participants went around the room, reporting the violations that had brought them there, a miraculous coincidence had occurred: Not one of them had broken the law! They all had justifications for speeding, ignoring a stop sign, running a red light, or making an illegal U-turn. He became so dismayed (and amused) by the litany of flimsy excuses that, when his turn came, he was embarrassed to give in to the same impulse. He said, “I didn’t stop at a stop sign. I was entirely wrong and I got caught.” There was a moment’s silence, and then the room erupted in cheers for his candor. There are plenty of good reasons for admitting mistakes, starting with the simple fact that you will probably be found out anyway—by your family, your company, your colleagues, your enemies, your biographer. But there are more positive reasons for owning up. Other people will like you more. Someone else may be able to pick up your fumble and run with it; your error might inspire someone else’s solution. Children will realize that everyone screws up on occasion and that even adults have to say “I’m sorry.” And if you can admit a mistake when it is the size of an acorn, it will be easier to repair than if you wait until it becomes the size of a tree, with deep, wide-ranging roots.

Keep Your Ego at Bay; Stay Humble   Have you felt that urgent desire to feel important, to feel special and to feel way above over other people? As a graduate, do you think you have the best education and do you think you deserve that job opening more over the other guy? Do you think you have accomplished so much in life that you deserve better than your peers? If so, maybe your ego is getting the best of you. When you act based on your ego, there is a great chance that you will be at odds with the world and the people around you. You feel that you are more special than others because of your accomplishments, your education, your work and your possession. Because of that, you are failing to see others’ worth and importance. You only act based on what you think, because your opinion is the only one that matters. You barely admit mistakes; hence, you are depriving yourself of the opportunity to grow because you believe that you got everything you need. You are tarnishing your relationship with others by alienating them with your attitude. Ultimately, you are missing a lot in life! Dr. Dryer preaches about a life of humility and respect for one’s self and others. He always reminds his readers, students and followers to keep their ego at bay and stay humble. He believes in the universal truth that individuals are more common than different with each other; that no one is above someone or more special than others. He believes in the perfect being, the invisible force that created all of us, and so we are one and the same, just performing our own duty in this universe. Our ego stems from our desire to gain recognition from our achievements and hard work. There is nothing wrong with that. Humans crave to be recognized because it is one of the best feelings in the world. However, when you become overly attached to that idea and your entitlement, that is where ego comes in and it does more bad than good to you. The best way to be recognized is to stay humble and modest of your accomplishments. Your achievements sound the loudest when you are not telling it to everyone. You can only earn the highest of respect when you give the same amount of respect to others and to yourself. You can only feel truly special when you are not trying to be over someone else’s head, but rather carry others on your back to lift them up. That is what matters the most.

Taking hold of the ladder, she began to climb, stopping when she got to eye level with him. That, however, turned out to be a mistake, because the moment her eyes met his, she forgot everything—even the lines she’d just committed to memory—because nothing else mattered to her except . . . him. “You wrote a scene with a strong heroine in it, and one where the hero gets dangled by his feet.” “I did.” “Why?” “Because I couldn’t figure out a better way to let you know I love you, the real you, without dangling from my feet and letting you cut me down.” Lucetta’s eyes immediately took to turning a little misty. “You . . . love me?” “I do, but before we continue this, I have to admit that hanging upside down is far less pleasant than I imagined, so if you’d be so kind, I really do need you to get me down from here.” Realizing he was completely serious, but also realizing if she cut him down he’d go plummeting to the hard floor and most likely suffer a horrible injury—which certainly wouldn’t have the night turning out well at all—Lucetta looked to the side of the stage and caught Mr. Skukman’s eye. As he, along with a good number of backstage hands, walked across the boards, whispers began circulating around the theater, growing louder after Bram got released and rose to his feet. Smiling ever so charmingly at the audience, he presented them with a small bow right before he took center stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, I must beg your indulgence for just a few more minutes because you see . . . I am . . . Mr. Grimstone.” The whispers ceased immediately. Bram smiled. “I’m Mr. Grimstone, alias Mr. Bram Haverstein, and I’ve come here tonight, with all of you as my witnesses, to proclaim my love for Miss Lucetta Plum, and . . .” He dropped to one knee. “Ask her to do me the very great honor of becoming my wife.” He reached out and took hold of Lucetta’s hand. “Miss Lucetta Plum, I am completely and irrevocably in love with you, and just so we’re clear, I’m in love with the real you, not the person you turn into when you take to the stage. I love the idea that you’re completely oblivious to your unusual beauty, can outrun a goat, and . . . you fascinate me as no one ever has. I’m asking you, in front of all of these people who will probably never buy another one of my books again if you turn me down . . .” He stopped talking and turned his head to the audience. “And just to remind everyone, I will have another novel releasing soon, although I haven’t decided on a title just yet, something about a strong-willed lady, no doubt, or . . .” “You’re getting distracted,” Lucetta interrupted. Bram immediately returned his gaze to hers. “Quite right, but . . . I’ve lost my train of thought.” “You were just about to the part where you were going to ask her to marry you,” a voice called out, a voice that sounded remarkably like Abigail’s. “Thank you, Grandmother,” he called back. “You’re welcome, darling. And just to remind you, I’m not getting any younger, so you might want to hurry this proposal business along.” Grinning, Bram shook his head, brought Lucetta’s fingers to his lips, and then sobered as he held her gaze. “I love you, Lucetta, more than I ever imagined I could, and I would be so incredibly honored if you’d agree to be my wife.” For a second, Lucetta was unable to answer him because her heart had taken to rising in her throat, but after drawing in a deep breath, she managed to nod, ignoring the tears that had filled her eyes and were blurring her vision. “I would be honored to become your wife, especially since—I’m not sure when this happened, but—I’m in love with you as well.” Bram’s hold on her hand tightened for just a second, and then he was sliding a ring on her finger she hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. Before she could take even a second to admire what felt like an enormous rock on her hand, he was standing instead of kneeling, looking intently into her eyes, before he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. The

First, he’s a billionaire, and a seventy-year-old man. Meaning, he doesn’t give a rat’s ass anymore about anything other than what matters. He’s lived a wild life already—so he doesn’t care who his casual comments offend. When he makes a joke it’s like when a baby farts. It’s nothing personal, the baby’s forgotten it, while everyone is choking out in the room. But the baby doesn’t care. I also had to admit that he’s never been in public office, so he doesn’t know how to be that particular kind of phony. I mean the phony that we all accept—which I call the “mandatory fake.” The mandatory fake is the married news anchor who condemns unseemly sexual behavior while banging Dalmatians in a nearby hotel. Being an old rich uncle who’s never been in politics, Trump has no familiarity with mandatory fake. There is, however, a different kind of fakery in Trump’s world of real estate fibbery. But such lies—salesman’s lies—are deliberately obvious by their excess. You know a salesman is lying when he tells you the car you’re buying from him was only driven by a little old lady once a week to church, which is great because she lives in the attic above the church! A salesman’s lie is done with a wink and an exaggeration (“This is the biggest crowd ever!”). A politician’s lie is a promise that could very well be true, but never is (“Read my lips, no new taxes”). You see the difference? Trump’s lies are common and do not insult us, because he assumes we’re all in on the joke. Politicians are daring you to go against your own innate skepticism (which is always a mistake). Am I “Trump-splaining”? Yes, I am. For now that he’s our president and up against so much, it’s no longer fealty to do so. It’s actually fairness. Anyway, as a Holmes, I’ve since reevaluated some positions that I’ve taken for granted. I’ve looked at the research on illegal immigration and its effects on unemployment. I’ve also looked harder at crime numbers, legal vs. illegal offenders. I’ve pretty much stuck to my original precepts, but I realize that ideology ultimately helps no one in that debate.

When I talked ONLY about what I got right I wasn’t doing myself or anyone else any favors. I want to be a role model not an unattainable ideal, I want my story to inspire people, not make them feel like they haven’t accomplished enough or can’t measure up. I think about the people who have sat in the audience of my speeches in the past, probably wondering why they were messing up when I seemingly never did, why was it so easy for me to find success when it was so hard for them. I can’t help to think, did I un-inspire anyone, did anyone decide they weren’t cut out for owning a business or being a leader because they were comparing themselves with the one sided version of my story? I really hope not. If I could go back to the times when I told those filtered stories of everything I did right, I’d talk about the things I speak about now. The things I wrote about in this book. I’d talk about how I told people what to do, instead of empowering them. I’d talk about how my poor decisions as a leader led to my shutting down a whole branch of my company. I’d confess I learned the value of autonomy by being too controlling. I’d talk about the people I didn’t ask to leave when I should have, and all the people I missed out on because I didn’t hire them when I had the chance. I’d talk about the times I hurt and let my people down. The times I didn’t listen to them or make them feel valued. The times I failed them and they left. I’d admit there’s no guide that explains exactly what it is like to lead, and no one gets it right the first time. You don’t mess up a couple times and skip your way to success. You mess up, get a little closer to achieving something and then make another mistake that puts you 10 steps back again. Sometimes you make the same mistake twice. Sometimes you feel like you want to give up. Sometimes you go to bed crying. These are the things I wish someone had told me when I was first starting out. Things I wish more leaders would get comfortable acknowledging. Because lets face it, leadership is really hard. And I learned that if its not hard, chances are you aren’t doing it right.

Why didn’t you go after her?” His father’s deep voice confronted his cowardice. Michael stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, slumping his shoulders in the process as a child being scolded. He could not look at his father, he knew all too well the disapproving glare that was bound to chastise him. “Love isn’t easy, Son.” His father’s hand on his shoulder offered understanding and friendship, far from the reprove he expected. “But it is for you and mom.” “No, Son, it isn’t.” His father admitted. “I think we need to talk. How about ordering us a pizza, while I settle in.” Guiding his son back to the house, Joseph felt the prick of thorns from the guilt of past mistakes. “I can’t believe you and mom almost divorced.” Michael shook his head in disbelief at the story his father had shared with him. “We came very close. Thankfully, my father, your grandfather, sat me down and shared his own marital struggles with me. None of us are exempt from them. I know you and Abigail are not talking marriage yet, but I see the way you look at her and I know, that it is just a matter of time. Love is a commitment, Michael, not a contract.” Joseph sat his empty coffee cup down on the table and spoke honestly with his son. “Either you love her enough to fight for her, or you don’t love her at all.” “I do love her.” “Then fight for her, Michael. That includes forgiving her, not just once, but each time she messes up.” Standing, Joseph handed Michael his Bible. “I have marked two passages I want you to read. Start with Isaiah 53 and end with 1 Corinthians 13. I think you will find your answers there.” Reaching his hand down to his boy, Joseph pulled him up into his embrace. “Sleep well, Son. Your mom and I are praying for you.

For thirty days work only in your Circle of Influence. Make small commitments and keep them. Be a light, not a judge. Be a model, not a critic. Be part of the solution, not part of the problem. Try it in your marriage, in your family, in your job. Don’t argue for other people’s weaknesses. Don’t argue for your own. When you make a mistake, admit it, correct it, and learn from it—immediately. Don’t get into a blaming, accusing mode. Work on things you have control over. Work on you.

If it is intolerable to change your mind, if no conceivable evidence will permit you to admit your mistake, if the threat to ego is so severe that the reframing process has taken on a life of its own, you are effectively in a closed loop. If there are lessons to be learned, it has become impossible to acknowledge them, let alone engage with them.

Everybody made mistakes, but to commit an error and not recognize it - or worse, to refuse to admit it or lie about it - these were capital sins. To be incorrigible was to dig your own grave.

the most fundamental and important truths at the heart of extreme ownership: There are no bad teams, only bad leaders.” It’s time to look at the man (or the woman) in the mirror. He goes on to say: “In any team, in any organization, all responsibility for success and failure rests with the leader. The leader must own everything in his or her world. There is no one else to blame. The leader must acknowledge mistakes and admit failure, take ownership of them, and develop a plan to win.” For example, if you are overbooking, it’s not the fault of your front office team. It’s your fault by not being clear on how you want to be scheduled, not giving the team the training they need, or in the worst case, having the wrong people performing the task. When we begin to look at all the shortcomings in our practices as problems that we have created as leaders, we can then move forward to solve those problems. However, when we don’t accept responsibility and become the victim, we become powerless.

Someone told me once that healing starts by admitting your own mistakes.

Everybody made mistakes, but to commit an error and not recognize it - or worse, to refuse to admit or lie about it - these were capital sins. To be incorrigible was to dig your own grave.

Why’re you still here?” She yawned. “Go away. Jared will be here any moment, and I’ll be nothing but an unfortunate memory.” I should go. Pivot and leave. To my relief, I started doing just that. The echo of my footsteps bounced on the bare walls. I did not look back. Knew that if I caught a glimpse of her again, I’d make a mistake. This was for the best. It was time to cut my losses, admit my one mistake in my thirty-one years of life, and move on. My life would return to normal. Peaceful. Tidy. Noiseless. Unexpensive. My hand curled around the doorknob, about to push it open. “Hey, asshole.” I stopped but didn’t turn around. I refused to answer to the word. “What do you say—one last time for the road?” I glanced behind my shoulder, knowing I shouldn’t, and found my soon-to-be ex-wife propped on the hood of my Maybach, her dress hiked up her waist, revealing she’d worn no panties. Her bare pussy glistened, ready for me. A dare. I never shied away from those. Throwing caution to the wind (and the remaining few brain cells she hadn’t fried with her mindless conversation), I marched to her. When I reached the car, she lifted her hand to stop me, slapping her palm against my chest. “Not so fast.” It is going to be fast and a half, seeing as I’m about to come just from watching you like this. I arched an eyebrow. “Cold feet?” “Nah, low temperature is your thing. Don’t wanna steal your thunder. Either we go all the way, or we go nowhere at all. It’s all or nothing.” It infuriated me that each time I gave her a choice, she fabricated another. If I gave her an option, she swapped it with one of her creation. And now, on the heels of my ultimatum, she’d dished out her own. And like a doomed fool, I chose everything. I chose my downfall. We exploded together in a filthy, frustrated kiss full of tongue and teeth. She latched on to my neck, half-choking me, half-hugging me. I fumbled with the zipper of my suit pants, freeing my cock, which by this point gleamed with precum, so heavy and so hard it was uncomfortable to stand. My teeth grazed down her chin, trailing her throat before I did what I hadn’t done in five fucking years and pushed into her, all at once. Bare. My cock disappeared inside her, hitting a hot spot, squeezed to death by her muscles. Oh, fuck. My forehead fell against hers. A thin coat of sweat glued us together. Never in my life had anything felt quite so good. I wanted to evaporate into mist, seep into her, and never come back. I wanted to live, breathe, and exist inside my beautiful, maddening, conniving, infuriating curse of a wife. She was the one thing I never wanted and the only thing I craved. Worst, still, was the fact that I knew I couldn’t deny her a single thing she desired, be it a frock or piece of jewelry. Or, unfortunately, my heart on a platter, speared straight through with a skewer for her to devour. Still beating and as vibrant red as candied apples. I retreated, then slammed into her harder. Pulled and rushed back in. My fingers gripped her by the waist, pinning her down, wild with lust and desire. I drove into her in jerky, frenzied movements of a man starved for sex, fucking the ever-living shit out of her. Now that I’d officially filed a restraining order against my logic, I grabbed the front of her throat, sinking my teeth onto her lower lip. My spearmint breath skated over her face. The hood of the car warmed her thighs, still hot from the engine, jacking up the temperature between us even further. Small, desperate yelps fled her mouth. The only sounds in the cavernous space came from my grunts, our skin slapping together, and her tiny gasps of pleasure. The car rocked back and forth to the rhythm of my thrusts... (chapter 44)

It can be difficult to not take it personally when an abuser or neglecter cannot admit their mistakes, especially if they are people we were close to at one time. But it's not personal. Many abusers simply do not have the egoic strength to face what they have done. Because of whatever traumas they have endured in their own lives, they have never developed the structural foundation necessary to absorb their shame. Without a measure of psychological intactness, it is very difficult for them to acknowledge their fragmented parts. This is not to excuse their behavior, nor to deny its effects, but only to acknowledge that their inability to take responsibility is theirs and theirs alone. It is not something to personalize, to wait for, or to let delay your healing. It's a reflection of their own limitations.

Create a safe space for your team. You can talk about psychological safety all day. But there’s nothing more powerful, nothing more convincing, than demonstrating that you’ve created a safe space. One way to do this: admit your own mistakes and share the impacts of your mistakes and the outcomes from your mistakes. Did the product fail? Did you learn from what happened? Share honestly and openly. Your examples speak loudly. They reveal not only your humility, but they also set the example for your team. They too will make mistakes, like you have. They too will be concerned or worried or scared, like you were. Set the example that mistakes happen—you make them, they make them—and that as a team, you discuss them, learn from them, and you move on together.

It’s all right, Alera. I don’t need a family.” “Maybe you don’t need one,” I said with a shrug, playing with the fabric of the quilt that lay between us. “But you deserve one.” I thought for a moment I had hit a nerve, but instead he made a joke out of it. “Just think--if I’d had Koranis as my father, I might have turned into him by now. I’d be brutish and pretentious, but at least my boastful garb would distract you from those flaws. Oh, and this hair you love? It would be gone.” I laughed at the ounce of truth in his statement, then fell silent, for some reason feeling sadder about his situation than he was. He reclined upon the pillows, considering me. “You know, in Cokyri, fathers don’t raise their children. I think maybe it’s better that way.” “How can you think that?” I asked, troubled by the decided tenor of his voice, and he sat up again, not having expected this reaction from me. “Your father controlled you and forced you to marry Steldor. How can you disagree with me after living through that?” “Because…” I faltered. “Because I love my father for all the good things he’s done. Because he made me laugh when I was a child. That’s what I think about when I see him. Not his mistakes.” “I couldn’t forgive him like you do.” “Could you forgive me? I mean, if I did something awful.” Narian did not immediately respond, unsettling me, but it was in his nature to weigh all things. “I don’t know,” he slowly answered. “But I would still love you.” He looked at me, an epiphany in his eyes, finally understanding my connection to my family. Then his expression changed, and I knew he was going to raise a difficult issue. “Explain this then. If that is how families are supposed to function, and you would forgive your father anything, and clearly my mother would forgive me anything, then Koranis fails because he won’t accept me. The women, you and my mother, are loving, but the man fails.” “Yes, but not all men fail.” “Prove it. Your father sold you into marriage, and the only father figures I’ve known have respectively made my life hell and rejected me.” He lay back once more, watching me, and though he had caught me off guard, I was determined to make my point. “Cannan is a just and fair man.” “Whose son is Steldor.” “Who has faults, yes--” “As all men do.” Frustrated, I threw my hands in the air. “Are you going to keep interrupting me?” “No, he said apologetically. “Go on.” “What about you? Am I, the woman who is in love with you, supposed to believe you’re a terrible person when I know better?” “I would be a terrible father,” he said, shifting onto his side. “What?” “Come, Alera, you have to admit it.” “I don’t have to admit anything, especially when I think you’re wrong.” “On what grounds?” I was so exasperated I wanted to tear my hair out. And his bemused visage only made it worse. “Because I saw you with that little girl this afternoon! You were perfect with her. And if you can be perfect with a stranger’s child, how could you be any different with our own?” “It’s different raising a child than talking with one,” he contended. “I never had a father, Alera. No one taught me how to be one.” “And did anyone teach you how to love me?” This stopped him short. “No.” “Well, you’re pretty good at it. So be quiet, and accept that our children are going to love you.” Narian’s eyebrows rose, and I started laughing. Taking my hand, he pulled me toward him and I lay down beside him, mirroring his position. “I’m sorry for yelling at you,” I murmured, giving him a light kiss. “You never know where a conversation is going to take you,” he said, gazing into my dark eyes. “I’m rather glad you did.

You have rightly surmised I brood and paw and snort at times for show, Mrs. Seaton. It keeps His Grace from getting ideas, for one thing. But make no mistake on this point: I will defend my brother’s interests without exception or scruple. If I find you are playing him false in any sense or trifling with him, I will become your worst enemy.” Anna smiled at him thinly. “Do you think he’d appreciate these threats you make to his housekeeper?” “He might understand them,” St. Just said. “For the other message I have to convey to you is that to the extent you matter to my brother, you matter to me. If he decides he values you in his life, then I will also defend you without exception or scruple.” “What is it you are saying?” “You are a woman with troubles, Anna Seaton. You have no past anyone in this household knows of, you have no people you’ll admit to, you have the airs and graces of a well-born lady, but you labor for your bread instead. I’ve seen you conferring with Morgan, and I know you have something to hide.” Anna raised her chin and speared him with a look. “Everybody has something to hide.” “You have a choice, Anna,” St. Just said, her given name falling from his lips with surprising gentleness. “You either trust the earl to resolve your troubles, or you leave him in peace. He’s too good a man to be exploited by somebody under his own roof. He’s had that at the hands of his own father, and I won’t stand for it from you.” Anna hefted her basket and flashed St. Just a cold smile. “Like the duke, you’ll wade in, bully and intimidate, and jump to conclusions regarding Westhaven’s life, telling yourself all the while you do it because you love him, when in fact, you haven’t the first notion how to really go about caring for the man. Very impressive—if one wants proof of your patrimony.” She

You act as a CEO only under two circumstances, neither during “normal” times. First, when you make a decision, and second, when you make mistakes. Always admit your mistakes and never look to find fault with your employees’ execution or to blame your subordinates. A CEO shouldn’t be preoccupied with claiming “success.

Don’t argue for other people’s weaknesses. Don’t argue for your own. When you make a mistake, admit it, correct it, and learn from it—immediately. Don’t get into a blaming, accusing mode. Work on things you have control over. Work on you.

Everyone I trusted has lied to me. But you… I told you things I’ve never told anyone. Things that hurt to admit even to myself. Your betrayal hit harder than any of the others combined, but that was my mistake. Thinking it was a betrayal when you were also the only person who’s ever told me the truth of your own accord. You didn’t wait until you were caught, even though you probably could’ve kept it a secret forever and I would’ve never found out. And I…” His voice cracked. “I was an idiot. And I’m sorry. And I lo—” “Stop.” I couldn’t breathe. “Let me go. Please.” “I can’t. I’ll do anything you want except that.

Best way apes know to make sure nobody questions their words is to call them divine intervention, rather than human creation. But if you could transcend the primitive instinct of connecting divinity with the supernatural, you would plainly see, human creation is divine creation - human intervention is the most divine it gets. That is why, my creations are divine creation, but that divinity is firmly rooted in my own consciousness - not in some imaginary heaven, but in my own organic and very much mortal human brain. Quran, Bible, Vedas - it's all human creation, no matter how much their proponents peddle them otherwise. Sure, they have a divine element to them, hence, there is good in them, but that divinity, that goodness, is rooted in humans, not in some anthropomorphic supernatural deity. Naskarism, Marxism, Buddhism, Sufism, Confucianism, Christianism, Judaism, it's all human construct. As such, none of it is infallible. Yours truly admits that, so did my friend Sid (Buddha), as well as my brother Mevlana (Rumi). And what's wrong with acknowledging the possibility of folly anyway! It is only through folly that fervor unfolds - it is only through mistakes that the mind expands.

Tom Wood - The Hunter and other Books in the series "Money, he had long ago discovered, was the world’s number one aphrodisiac." " But better I take what I might not need than find myself without what I do need." " Why do you do what you do?" "Once you’ve sold your soul to the devil you can’t then ask for it back." "Trust is earned." " You don’t like it, stop doing it. A simple statement, but true all the same." " People who wanted weapons had enemies and by supplying those people, he would count their enemies as his own." "....to give the teabags the best chance at working. The haemostatic tannins found naturally in tea would help stop the bleeding, reduce the chance of infection, and aid the healing process." "I am a shark. As soon as I stop swimming, I’ll drown.’ " Life flows like a river, and we must adapt to its ever-changing course." "They’re a nuisance. Pure vermin.’" '‘As are we all, madam,’ the man with blond hair said back. ‘But at least the pigeons have no pretence of grandeur." "I trust that you understand the consequences of showing yourself to be untrustworthy.’ "And there is no hearsay in a man’s eyes. There is only truth.’ ‘What truth do you see in mine?’ ‘I see a man of experience. I see a man without conscience. I see a man who sold his soul before he knew he possessed anything of value.’ "Do I need to be in a hurry to wonder how long I’ll be here?’ "Understanding and doing are two separate concepts.’ "Aren’t you glad to be alive?’ ‘Of course,’ Victor said. ‘Life is always preferable to the alternative.’ 'They say you get out of reading what you put in.’ BETTER OFF DEAD "....jobs could only be considered routine because of the preparation that went into them and the patience displayed in their execution. If corners were cut in the lead-up to the job – should any contingency not be considered and planned for – mistakes would surely follow." You don’t know it yet, and no one ever told me at your age, but eventually you’ll reach a point in life where you have no new thoughts; you experience no new sensations. Everything you do, everything you say, you’ve done and said a thousand times before. Swearing is an expression of anger. When we swear we’re admitting we’ve lost control. Reading is exercise for the mind. I believe in integrity and I believe in justice. I believe a man is only as good as his word and I believe that we are only treated as we allow ourselves to be treated. Forgiveness is against human nature. To forgive a wrong is to invite another. I believe in justice. No wrong should go unpunished.

Being a true leader, as opposed to a competent manager, requires a willingness to get your hands dirty. I have said before that I do not expect anyone to do a job I cannot do myself. While this is clearly unrealistic as a company grows and expands, the perception of being willing to step in and assist must remain. The weight of leadership includes staying calm while others panic and coming up with solutions rather than joining the chorus of complaints. The Covid-19 pandemic has certainly helped distinguish the leaders from the managers. Leaders are prepared to take responsibility when things go wrong, even if the true responsibility lies with someone else. Leaders are visible. Leaders have a vision, even if it is only short term. I don’t really believe in long-term planning. I make up the rules of the game based on one-year plans. This means I always retain visibility and control. Five years is too long a time to have any certainty that the objectives will be met. Leadership is not a popularity contest, but it also should not inspire fear. Leaders earn respect and loyalty, recognising that these take a long time to earn and a second to lose. A leader is not scared of collaboration and listening to the opinions of others, as well as accepting help when it’s needed. Leadership is not a quality that you are born with, it is something that you learn over time. I was not a leader in my Coronation days, and I am the first to admit that I made a lot of mistakes. Even at African Harvest, as much as I achieved financial success and tried different techniques to earn respect, I never truly managed to deal with the unruly investment team. But, having built on years of experience, by the time I hit my stride at Sygnia, I was a leader. Within any organisation of substantial size, there is space for more than one leader, whether they head up divisions or the organisation itself. There are several leaders across Sygnia weaving the fabric of our success. I am no longer the sole leader, having passed the baton on to others in pursuit of my own dreams. To quote the Harvard Business Review, ‘The competencies most frequently required for success at the top of any sizable business include strategic orientation, market insight, results orientation, customer impact, collaboration and influence, organisational development, team leadership, and change leadership.’ That is what I looked for in my successor, and that is what I found in David. I am confident that all the leaders I have groomed are more than capable of taking the company forwards.

In that book of yours, Emma, what happens to her?" he asked Naina as she looked over some paperwork they were about to submit to Naman's office. They were in Yash's apartment, a.k.a. their temporary office, working long after everyone else had left. She raised a brow at him, all the accusations she'd thrown at him---not entirely inaccurately---flashing guiltily in her eyes. "The one who tries to be a matchmaker so she can feel good about herself and fill her boredom?" She smiled, but there was an apology in her eyes. A hot apology. "She learns that having more privilege than other people doesn't mean you know what's best for them. She learns to admit her mistakes and listen to others, and it teaches her to listen to her own feelings too." He laughed. "And she finds the love of her life and they live happily ever after." He'd been joking, but her face said that was exactly what happened. "You're kidding me," he said. "And this is a book you liked?" Which, come to think of it, gave him great hope. "You're a romantic, Naina Kohli," he said, and got all up in her face. "You wish," she said, but she did kiss every last of breath out of him.

Owns Up to Mistakes “The greatest of faults, I should say, is to be conscious of none.” —Thomas Carlyle If there is one hallmark of maturity that is universally agreed upon, it is personal responsibility — the ability to recognize when one has made a mistake and to own up to it. And to do so quickly, forthrightly, and without excuse. The reason it’s hard to admit to messing up is that it depreciates your self-concept — your vision of yourself as really being a great guy. So to protect the ego, you come up with justifications — which feel like rational explanations rather than lies — for why you had to do what you did. You blame your mood or the unique circumstances. You say someone “made” you do it — that you were provoked. You engage in “if-only” reasoning: “If only you didn’t push my buttons, I wouldn’t lose my temper”; “If only this job paid better, I wouldn’t have to skim extra money off the top.” It’s easier to fess up to mistakes when the gap between these lapses and our self-concept has been shrunken — by humility. We still think well of ourselves, but also realize we’re a little flawed, a little broken, and imperfectly human. We use this recognition not to justify our misbehavior but as a way to more readily recognize our shortcomings, apologize for them, and get to work on their improvement. In the mode of mature personal responsibility there are no apologies with caveats, no “Sorry, but’s . . .” Just the frank ownership of error. Yet there is no room for excess self-flagellation, either. The mature individual recognizes the mistake, confesses it, and offers restitution if possible/necessary. Then, he moves on and tries to be better in the future. He neither ignores his mistakes, nor allows them to push him into a place of demoralizing regret and rumination. He sees them as important learning experiences. As put by the authors of Mistakes Were Made (But Not By Me), mature individuals “see mistakes not as terrible personal failings to be denied or justified, but as inevitable aspects of life that help us grow, and grow up.

You mean our most important ideas about life are ones we are not even aware of, and we’ve been carrying them around since childhood? Yes, and their impact can be very powerful. Often when we think we’re responding to actual people and events, we’re merely assigning them parts in the inner novel we’ve been writing all our lives. For example, if someone has felt deserted as a child by an important adult, and this becomes a key experience in his way of seeing the world, there are several ways he can continue to have that experience. One way is to seek out the kind of people who are likely to desert him as an adult—and we are all very clever about that. Another is to drive people away by his own behavior. Or he can imagine he is deserted by people who really haven’t mistreated him at all. Whatever way he chooses, he confirms his theory about what to expect from others, and this is very gratifying. Come on! That certainly doesn’t sound like any way to have fun. You’d be surprised. Being right is one of the most satisfying experiences in the world. Or let’s say, rather, that being wrong is one of the most unsettling experiences that can happen to anyone. It’s an awful blow to the ego to feel you’ve made a mistake. That’s why people don’t want to change. It would mean admitting they were wrong. A patient once burst out at me indignantly, “But that would mean I wasted the first forty years of my life!” Some people would rather go on making the same mistake for another forty years than admit it and cut their losses. People are very stubborn. Sometimes they secretly believe that if they keep on long enough with their misconceived behavior, they’ll make it right. That reality will give in to their views, rather than vice versa. They’re still trying to get their parents to give in. They haven’t given up their anger over what they didn’t get when they were five years old.

But more often, we have to make our own magic, and to get there, we have to be willing to make mistakes. The key to moving forward is not pretending that you've got it all figured out but rather admitting that, like everyone else, you're a work in progress.

My suggestion is to be transparent and honest as to the root cause and how you plan to avoid making the same mistake again. In other words, if you or your team makes a mistake, own it. As noted by authors Doug Guthrie and Sudhir Venkatesh in their article “Creative Leadership: Humility and Being Wrong,” “humility and the ability to admit error may be two of the most important qualities a truly creative leader must have.”2

It can be difficult to not take it personally when an abuser or neglecter cannot admit their mistakes, especially if they are people we were close to at one time. But it's not personal. Many abusers simply do not have the egoic strength to face what they have done. Because of whatever traumas they have endured in their own lives, they have never developed the structural foundation necessary to absorb their shame. Without a measure of psychological intactness, it is very difficult for them to acknowledge their fragmented parts. This is not to excuse their behavior, nor to deny its effects, but only to acknowledge that their inability to take responsibility is theirs and theirs alone. It is not something to personalize, to wait for, or to let delay your healing. It's a reflection of their own limitations.

When we fail to make sense of our pain, we decide to take matters into our own hands. We choose to make something up instead. We create stories that exaggerate its importance and impact. We ascribe arbitrary importance to the event. We would rather falsely encode the memory with meaning than truthfully admit that it was unpleasant and move on. We make a huge mistake when we think of our pain in this way instead of allowing ourselves to feel it and let it pass.

A good example of codependent behavior by a parent is that of never being wrong. Despite contrary opinions on the matter, it turns out that parents are just ordinary, regular people like everyone else. As such, they are prone to getting things wrong from time to time. Many parents will accept such lapses in judgment, owning their mistakes and the consequences they might create. However, codependent parents will never accept responsibility for being wrong. Instead, they will either blame events on some other factor, such as other people involved, or they will simply rewrite the story so that their actions seem more reasonable and justified. Whenever a codependent parent is challenged on the error of a decision they will usually become highly emotional, often lashing out in fits of rage in order to maintain control over the situation and everyone involved. They will almost never admit to being wrong, and they will certainly never apologize even if they cannot deny that they made a mistake along the way.

Of course I shall respect your incognito. I will say nothing. You can trust me not to betray a guest. You’ll be far safer at my place than at the hotel. Only myself and my wife. As a matter of fact it was my wife who said to me, “Do you suppose he can possibly be the Querry?”’ ‘You’ve made a mistake.’ ‘Oh no, I haven’t. I can show you a photograph when you come to my house–in one of the papers that lie around in case they may prove useful. Useful! This one certainly has, hasn’t it, because otherwise we would have thought you were only a relation of Querry’s or that the name was pure coincidence, for who would expect to find the Querry holed up in a leproserie in the bush? I have to admit I am somewhat curious. But you can trust me, trust me all the way. I have serious enough problems of my own, so I can sympathize with those of another man. I’ve buried myself too. We’d better go outside, for in a little town like this even the walls have ears.’ ‘I’m afraid . . . they are expecting me to return . . .’ ‘God rules the weather. I assure you, M. Querry, you have no choice.

Parents who are emotionally unsteady usually are afraid of accurate psychological state and tug back at emotional proximity. Such parents now turn towards management techniques that counteract facts of existence than to take care of it. They now find thinking inwardly as unwelcome, so they hardly ever admit to making mistakes or make an apology. Their immature state of mind makes them irregular and emotionally undependable, and also undiscerning to the wants of their kids. I have taken the time to create imaginable and understandable points that will help you know that as a parent, when you are weak emotionally, you will have a problem, especially when your kids have so much emotional needs. If you are not careful, your kids will likely miss to your survival know-how. There are so many parents that have interpreting some fables and tales for so long. Now, the amount of children’s stories that talk about children who are left on their own and must help an animal in pains just because their parents are uncaring, inexperienced, or absent-minded.

Don’t argue for other people’s weaknesses. Don’t argue for your own. When you make a mistake, admit it, correct it, and learn from it—immediately. Don’t get into a blaming, accusing mode. Work on things you have control over. Work on you. On be.

As we’ve explained, people with BPD often experience and remember situations through a highly emotional lens, and are convinced that their feelings equal facts. So they may tell their own emotional truth, which may have little or no relationship to the actual truth. In other cases, people with BPD embellish the truth, and then, over time, further embellish it and/or start to believe it themselves. Folks with BPD may also tell lies for the same reason the rest of us sometimes do: to make themselves look better, to dodge a negative consequence, or to avoid admitting to making a mistake. (Remember, to someone with BPD, making a mistake means being a mistake.)

Don’t argue for other people’s weaknesses. Don’t argue for your own. When you make a mistake, admit it, correct it, and learn from it—immediately. Don’t get into a blaming, accusing mode. Work on things you have control over. Work on you. On be. Look at the weaknesses of others with compassion, not accusation. It’s not what they’re not doing or should be doing that’s the issue. The issue is your own chosen response to the situation and what you should be doing. If you start to think the problem is “out there,” stop yourself. That thought is the problem.

It took some time before he became aware of a faint shifting in power, a ripple of awareness, like a searching crystal, an eye opening in the earth beside them. They were not alone. The presence touched him, stirred in his mind. Male. Powerful. Gregori. You are well, my friend. There was that cool menace in his mind. They knew one another so well after all the centuries of standing together against all odds. Gregori had not voiced it as a question, and Mikhail was shocked, truly shocked, that he could make contact. Raven and he were deep in the bowels of the earth. The sun was at its greatest peak, and all Carpathians were weak. How could Gregori accomplish such a feat? It was unheard of, even in the legends and myths of the past. Your woman needs to sleep, Mikhail. Allow me to assist you. Gregori was far away--Mikhail could detect that--yet the bond between them was strong. Sending Raven to sleep gave Gregori a semblance of power over her. Indecision. Did he trust Gregori? The power that Gregori wielded was phenomenal. For the mental well-being of his lifemate, did he do what no Carpathian would ever consider? Allow me to do this for you, old friend. She will not survive this day, Mikhail. Even locked with you, her human limitations will overcome her desire to aid you. And you can do this? Even at this distance? You can safely send her to sleep? Take away her torment? There will be no mistakes? Mikhail found himself wanting to believe that Gregori was indeed powerful enough to do such a thing. Gregori was their healer. If he said Raven would be unable to last buried within the earth, it only confirmed his own belief. Yes, through you. You are the only person on this planet I have given my allegiance to. You have always had my loyalty. I count you as my family and my friend. Until your woman or some other gives me my lifemate, you are the only person standing between the darkness and me. Gregori would never have admitted such a thing unless he considered the situation a dire emergency. He was giving Mikhail the only reason he could to reassure Mikhail that he could be trusted.

There are steps we can all take to harness the mea culpa and learn from our mistakes. Schedule a daily Clinton moment and say, “I was wrong”—and then find out why. When you mess up at work, pinpoint one or two lessons to be gleaned from the mishap, and then quickly own up. When others mess up, quell the temptation to scoff or gloat and instead help them to spot the silver lining. Start a conversation in your company, school, or family about how admitting mistakes can inspire creative leaps. Reinforce that message by using feel-good terms, such as “gift” or “bonus,” to describe the uncovering of helpful errors and by pinning up quotes, such as this from Henry T. Ford: “Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again, this time more intelligently.

An automatic guidance system corrects its course from negative feedback data. It acknowledges errors in order to correct them and stay on course. So must you. Admit your mistakes and errors, but don’t cry over them. Correct them and go forward. In dealing with other people, try to see the situation from their point of view as well as your own.

Here are some examples of behaviors that show integrity: -Follow all rules that are set for you and the ones you are expecting your team to follow -Follow through on promises -If you can't follow through on a commitment, let the person know why -Own and admit mistakes -Address sub-par performance in a timely manner (in yourself and others) -Recognize outstanding behavior in a timely manner -Hold all employees to the same standards -Treat everyone fairly, with a high level of respect -Communicate in a clear and respectful manner -Do not gossip or spread rumors--stop them if you hear them -Never place blame on others for something you did -Keep confidential information confidential--do not betray someone's trust -Deal with problems head-on--avoid trying to circumvent or using back channels -Be an advocate for respectful communication and treatment and address unacceptable behavior immediately -Provide facts--do not speculate without all of the information -Be a team player -Avoid getting dragged into company politics -Speak well about your co-workers and company and if you have concrete concerns, address through proper channels

Try it in your marriage, in your family, in your job. Don’t argue for other people’s weaknesses. Don’t argue for your own. When you make a mistake, admit it, correct it, and learn from it—immediately. Don’t get into a blaming, accusing mode. Work on things you have control over. Work on you. On be. Look at the weaknesses of others with compassion, not accusation. It’s not what they’re not doing or should be doing that’s the issue. The issue is your own chosen response to the situation and what you should be doing. If you start to think the problem is “out there,” stop yourself. That thought is the problem. People who exercise their embryonic freedom day after day will, little by little, expand that freedom. People who do not will find that it withers until they are literally “being lived.” They are acting out the scripts written by parents, associates, and society. We are responsible for our own effectiveness, for our own happiness, and ultimately, I would say, for most of our circumstances.

Instructions: Use the scale below to indicate how each statement applies to your actions on the team. Respond as honestly as possible, as this will allow you to most accurately identify any areas of development that you may have. Scale: 3 = Usually 2 = Sometimes 1 = Rarely Humble My teammates would say: ______ 1. I compliment or praise them without hesitation. ______ 2. I easily admit to my mistakes. ______ 3. I am willing to take on lower-level work for the good of the team. ______ 4. I gladly share credit for team accomplishments. ______ 5. I readily acknowledge my weaknesses. ______ 6. I offer and accept apologies graciously. ______ Total Humility Score Hungry My teammates would say: ______ 7. I do more than what is required in my own job. ______ 8. I have passion for the “mission” of the team. ______ 9. I feel a sense of personal responsibility for the overall success of the team. ______ 10. I am willing to contribute to and think about work outside of office hours. ______ 11. I am willing to take on tedious or challenging tasks whenever necessary. ______ 12. I look for opportunities to contribute outside of my area of responsibility. ______ Total Hunger Score Smart My teammates would say: ______ 13. I generally understand what others are feeling during meetings and conversations. ______ 14. I show empathy to others on the team. ______ 15. I demonstrate an interest in the lives of my teammates. ______ 16. I am an attentive listener. ______ 17. I am aware of how my words and actions impact others on the team. ______ 18. I adjust my behavior and style to fit the nature of a conversation or relationship. ______ Total Smart Score Scoring: Remember, the purpose of this tool is to help you explore and assess how you embody the three virtues of an ideal team player. The standards for “ideal” are high. An ideal team player will have few of these statements answered with anything lower than a ‘3’ (usually) response. A score of 18 or 17 is an indication that the virtue is a potential strength. A score range of 16 to 14 is an indication that you most likely have some work to do around that virtue to become an ideal team player. A score of 13 or lower is an indication that you need improvement around that virtue to become an ideal team player. Finally, keep in mind that while this tool is quantitative, the real value will be found in the qualitative, developmental conversations among team-members and their managers. Don't focus on the numbers, but rather the concepts and the individual statements where you scored low.