Blame’s Fault

I like finding answers to the problems in life. I know that’s impossible, and that chasing one single answer to everything will drive me a little crazy, but this week I feel like I’m getting close.

Really. Close.

I’ve decided that when things go sideways, it’s Blame’s fault. Blame was especially obnoxious this past week.

Blame was there when my kids were pounding on each other in the back of the car while I was just trying to get them to school on time. You know the script. “He looked at me funny!” “His arm’s on my side!”

Blame was there again when I found more than one mistake in my own work at the start of September. Obviously it was back-to-school’s fault. Too much going on.

It showed up in nearly every conversation I had last week, with people in the middle of their own separations, with friends blaming themselves for their own misery. It sidetracked me from getting anything done. Every day I tried to write this post about Blame, and every day Blame thwarted me. Wouldn’t submit. Darn you, Blame.

But I think I’ve finally got your number.

I’m done with you. Here’s why.

Every time you show up, you distract everyone from what’s actually going on. You’re a trickster. You steal the show. You’re a piece of glitter nobody can look away from, once you’re in the room, you’re all anyone can see.

You trap people. You get them so busy proving you wrong that they forget the person on the other side of you isn’t actually the enemy, they’re just someone dodging and weaving, trying to get away from you, while you get used as both shield and sword.

You lock people into thinking there’s one right answer. The world isn’t black and white, Blame.

And worst of all, you’re the weapon people turn on themselves.

So move aside. Make room for communication, understanding, forgiveness.

I’m done with you, Blame. I’m moving on.