This morning, I wrote a post questioning the way I trained Fate, it is beginning to look to me as if my training method was responsible for her choosing to race around the sheep rather than confront them. We are happy with Fate, I wouldn’t change one hair on her head.

But the truth is important to me, and I need to acknowledge mistake when I make them, which is very often.

The point of this is about whether or not I am comfortable admitting  mistakes. The piece  this morning was not transmitted properly to Facebook due to technical issues, so I am linking to it again here and writing about it a bit more, as I got an enormous response to it despite the problems.

I can’t recall the last time any public official or politician admitted directly and without pressure to admitting to a mistake, either in deed or judgment.  In a year of political speech-making and campaigning I have not heard a single politician admit any kind of error.

In our country, it seems our leaders no longer lead, with few  exceptions they pander and follow. Mistakes are no longer acceptable in our society, even though they are, to me, the pathway to learning, authenticity and true spirituality.

I don’t need to rehash the Fate question here, you can read the post.

Two people raised the issue of Fate’s training last year, specifically her racing around sheep rather than confronting them in small spaces and developing the “eye” necessary to move and control sheep. One was Dr. Karen Thompson, the wonderful breeder who got me Red and Fate. No one knows more about border collie training than she does.

Another was a curious and distasteful character, a border collie obsessive, who sent me jeering and often hateful messages about the way I was training Fate (and other things). It happens online, these people are a cross between stalkers and trolls.

I don’t respond well to obnoxious or hateful messages and rarely consider them.

Had this person – I asked her five or six times to stop messaging me, which makes her guilty of harassment legally – spoken to me in a civil way I might have heard her, but the rise of digital messaging requires us to protect ourselves emotionally from the angry and the cruel.

It is an essential skill if you are a public person being open about life. Some people appreciate it, some people will drink the blood of honest, just like vampires.

Karen’s caution didn’t register, she is polite and careful to respect others, and I wasn’t sure she was correct at the time.  She doesn’t put her way into something if she is not invited.

We never meant for Fate to be a working dog, we shifted gears and I think by then,  it was too late. As Maria says, Fate is the perfect dog for us in just about every way, it could not have turned out better.

She is absolutely no trouble and lives completely within the boundaries we set for her, and they are many.

But I do think Karen and the troubled border collie obsessive were correct, in retrospect I was mistaken in the way I tried to train Fate to herd sheep. It is not simply a matter of her whimsical and fun-loving nature, although that is there, I had much to do with it, I think.

I believe owning up to mistakes is essential to becoming a fully-developed human being. It is essential to authenticity. It cleanses the soul and strengthens the heart.  There is no greater act of love than to say to someone you care about that you were wrong. I have said it to Maria a thousand times.

I can look anyone of you in the eye and say I have no secrets now, nothing to hide. Owning up to mistakes is perhaps the most liberating discovery I have ever made. And one of the healthiest. I know that only the strong can admit mistakes, the weak can never do it.

In a sense, people who never make mistakes – or admit to them – have died a kind of death of the soul. Making mistakes is about being human, not evil or dumb. The smartest people I have ever known admit their mistakes freely and openly. The best way I know to be dumb is to never make mistakes. Mistakes are the step-children of the thoughtful and creative.

I am so grateful to be a person who was out in the fields every morning in all kinds of weather working with this beautiful and enthusiastic little dog. Wonderful moments, I wouldn’t trade a one for a blue ribbon.

And yet, how rarely do we ever hear these words: “I was wrong. I made a mistake.” I think I might have them tattooed on my forehead.

And then, there is the letting go. We love Fate, she is happy and healthy and adored. It turned out fine. Time to move on. You can make mistakes and the world continues to revolve around the sun, and life goes on. And that is a good thing, as I will hopefully be making mistakes well unto my last breath, and hopefully, admitting to them.