I have begun teaching therapeutic riding lessons like the fully-fledged (wet behind the ears) certified instructor I can now call myself. One friend in the business kindly pointed out that these early lessons are difficult in a way that later lessons won’t be. Even by this time next year, I will have more experience to fall back on, better instincts, more sounding boards, and more completed experiments.
One of my best teachers in life thus far has been the near miss. At one of my earliest jobs, I fell hard for a co-worker. He was wicked smart, had a great sense of humor, didn’t take himself too seriously… after a few happy hours, we ended up, um, getting better acquainted, but then he went to work for a competitor, and our paths stopped crossing. Yes, we had telephones back then, but I lacked confidence that the attraction was reciprocally strong.
He was such a cool guy. I later found out that he had substance abuse issues, was a work-aholic, and traded on credentials that were not quite accurately represented. Yikes. I was a little snake-bit after that brush with leaping before I looked, and doubtless saved myself some toad-kissing for being more hesitant.
‘Nother example of a near miss: In a recent riding lesson, my student’s saddle slipped to the side, though I had repeatedly checked the snugness of the girth. Because the other team member in the lesson was a very experienced instructor, disaster was averted. Rather than going overboard, the rider was able to safely dismount, feet first, no harm/no foul. Double yikes!!!
I hate that the saddle slipped. I am endlessly grateful that the situation was handled safely. Going forward, I will be checking girths, and making sure my rider is centered, especially when it’s a full-size rider ona very round horse. I knew that was the protocol, I did observe the protocol, but I’ll take the protocol far more to heart going forward.
What I like about the near miss is that it draws my attention to a shortcoming, a dicey decision, or a tricky sitch without also visiting upon me all the complications that come with a big failure. I’m a little sadder, but–I hope–much wiser, for taking near misses seriously. The near miss lets me learn from experience, but at a big discount.
And yet, I never saw much discussion in law school, grad school, or my Fortune 100 employment stints about near miss analysis. Failure analysis, sure. Learn from your mistakes! I also saw some success analysis, along the lines of, “Why we’re the best,” or, “What got us to where we are today,” but those brushes with disaster that spare us the worst outcomes… they were not give much attention.
Near misses also apply to contractors I didn’t hire, contracts I did not sign, relationships I cut loose rather than maintain at any cost. Money I did not hand over. Trust I did not hand over. People who could have trashed me professionally but didn’t… My mom would have said my guardian angels were working overtime. When I narrowly avoid a bad 
outcome, I hope my hindsight works overtime too, so that I don’t have to swerve that same obstacle ever again.
What has taught you the most meaningful life lessons? Do any significant near misses come to mind?
PS: I’ve already sent out the ARCs for The Besotted Baron (and he’s loose in the wild, bless his handsome, stubborn heart), but if you’re a federal worker without a paycheck, or you’re among the scads of us with too much month at the end of our money these days, I can send out a few more. Email me at [email protected] and let me know what device you read on.
PPS: A Kiss for Hope finally got a cover!
That’s so incredibly kind, Grace, to offer ARCs for those federal workers affected by the government shutdown. I have a couple of friends really struggling right now.
Please let them know there’s an HEA out there free for the asking. I can’t make the book free-free everywhere, but I can at least send out the remaining ARCs.
We moved for my husband’s job to NE Ohio in the early 80s when the Rust Belt economy was in the toilet. I was an experienced accountant looking for work not too far from home since I had a youngster. A tax service advertised and I went there for an interview. I waited and waited for the boss. Finally I asked the receptionist what it was like in that office. She didn’t have anything positive to say. Finally the boss told someone to tell me to take a desk and start doing tax returns. I declined. Nice people, but the boss seemed shifty. Some time later he was arrested for either murder or attempted murder of his wife. I can’t remember the details. I have relied on my instincts about how professional an office feels to help decide if a job there is worth it.
WOW. Good call, Pat. Phew!
Another stumper for me! What comes to my mind are all related to Mother Nature. The big San Francisco earthquake (no, not the 1906 one–I wasn’t born yet) happened a couple of years before we moved there and the big Los Angeles earthquake happened the year after we left LA (for SF). I also just missed a couple of big tornados in Texas in the 1960s.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m pretty cautious about things in general, but I can’t think of anything more personal (though I probably will right after I post this).
One near miss that comes to mind is, as a “helper” RN, I tried to hand the wrong IV drug to the nurse handling the IV drug administration during a code (cardiac arrest). Thank God in heaven she looked at it—truly LOOKED at it (as she should have done) and told me she needed the other one.
30+ years later, I still get a knotted stomach thinking about it. The excellent thing about issues like this as they trigger a “near miss incident report” that goes to a committee for review. Not blame—review to try to determine what wet wrong and correct it before it happens again. Very humbling, but also a great way to learn.
Congratulations on becoming a certified instructor! Well done! You worked on this for quite a while and it’s a tremendous step ahead, not only for you but also for all those who need professionals like you. YAY!
About 35 years ago, I heard the midwife screaming into the phone, “The baby is fine. You’re losing the mother.” At that point I didn’t care whether or not we both died. My second delivery it was the baby who was in trouble. I now am personally acquainted with two mothers who had full-term stillbirths of apparently healthy infants. I no longer consider pregnancy or childbirth with quite the insouciance the childbirth educator tried to instill in her class. I have learned, however, that no one wants my opinion on the matter…. I feel for Lord Julian’s Hyperia.
I’ve been extremely fortunate or blessed in 1) stepping away from the wrong men; 2) deciding not to relocate when asked by employers, despite inducements; 3) gently overriding my mother in her 80s who said a house with stairs ‘would be no problem’ for her. In all these cases, time revealed that these were the right decisions. The temptation and pressure at the time were strong! Lessons learned: 1) ruthlessly question myself and then trust my intuition about relationships. 2) Companies don’t love me; family does. 3) Aging parents deserve respect AND we must still must help make the tough decisions that they aren’t able to face. These examples were the big decisions, but day-to-day, I continue to dodge so many bullets – it’s scary.