I have a pretty strong sense of shame. When I mess up and do something dumb or regrettable, it’s with me till the grave. It’s not pleasant but that’s the way I’m wired, and I don’t think that’s all bad. I’ve talked on here before about how I think a good sense of shame is useful for learning from your mistakes — you mess up, you feel bad and don’t like it and don’t want to feel like that again, so you don’t make that mistake again. Hey, that’s just great.
But I’ve been thinking about work lately and the countless co-workers that have come and gone since I’ve had my job, and how no one talks or thinks about those former co-workers now. New staff cycle through who never even met the old ones so the memory of the old ones evaporates completely quite quickly.
So even if I do something I feel dumb about at work, I just have to think about how
- no one cares about my mistakes as much as I do,
- one day I’ll be gone and once I am, no one will think about me or my mistakes at all because memories are short and new staff won’t have known me to start with, and
- if anyone did remember me or any mistakes I made, they have either moved on already or will move on soon too,
so it really doesn’t matter and I shouldn’t beat myself up over it. It’s neat to think about this stuff and recognize how insignificant most of us are beyond the present and immediate future. We only matter to the people who deal with us, while they are dealing with us — once you aren’t in their lives anymore, they forget you. It’s kind of crazy. On one hand it’s sad but it’s also somehow comforting in a way. I’m not sure why I also find that comforting, and I’m too tired to dig into that now. It’s late and I need to get to bed. The main thing I wanted to get down was that everyone will forget about you and all the things you did, both good and bad, pronto.
crimson highway 