Good Excuses

When I feel bad about myself or something I did, I listen thoroughly to my excuses.

My excuses are, paradoxically, the way in to the learning and nourishment I need to show up exquisitely.

I don't want to get off the hook. I want to be on the correct hook.

It is NEVER the correct hook to be on the hook for my past behavior. That is pure suffering. I let myself off that hook with my excuses.

Then I listen thoroughly to my excuses so that I know which hook to set myself upon instead—my own accountability to who I want to be.

Did I say that thing because I was tired?

I'm on the hook for getting better sleep next time.

Did I do that thing because I was overstimulated?

I'm on the hook for listening closer to myself and taking a break sooner.

Did I not know a better way to say it?

I'm on the hook for learning a better way.

Note that I do not put myself on the hook for saying or doing differently, in a similar future situation, but for nourishing myself with rest, solitude, and education so that I *might* have something else to offer in the future.

Just the same way I'm doomed if I put myself on the hook for past behavior, I'm doomed if I put myself on the hook for future behavior.

I can't know that I can do it better.

I can take every advisement about how I nourish myself.

My self nourishment is in a constant process, which makes it a great place to apply changes—it's already everchanging, tuning, tweaking.

Refinements of art come from materials, technique, and skill—if I've arrived at the canvas, it's already too late to make changes to the art.

It is not the art that needs changing, improving, nourishing, it is the artist that needs fuel and tools and foundations to create more exquisitely as time goes on.