The Thorns of the Olive branch

Everyone makes mistakes. We recognise them on a bit of a sliding scale of real-time. Often they are seen immediately as glaring errors of judgement, sometimes only after months or years of emotional, financial or physical investment, give way to a proportionate sense of "Ooops".. and of course, an important learning and growing opportunity.

A mistake is something we generally only recognise after the fact. It's often accompanied by a "wake-up" moment - both literally and figuratively. Mistakes usually occur when we act with incomplete information, when we horribly misjudge a person / misread a situation - or maybe when we simply do the best we can with what we know at the time and the outcome turns out very differently than we hoped. It makes us cringe inwardly on the same sliding scale - a little or a lot.

Mistakes are a hugely important by-product of living. I am totally down with mistakes - which is convenient, as I have made so many... Mistakes belong to all of us who are trying things, building things, loving people, and navigating the imperfect lansdcape of the human experience. But the idea that I want to try to illuminate in this piece, are the differences between mistakes and decisions.

Mistakes and Decisions...They were never meant as interchangeable words, like "start and begin", "end and finish" etc. but we do tend to blur them a bit more than we could choose to.

So we have mentioned "mistakes", but what of decisions...? Well, to start, decisions are deliberate. It is the moment where we weigh the consequences of an action and proceed on the basis of that same consequential weight. Even if we decide the result might lead to discomfort, hardship or a bit of whatever, we total up all the "maybes" and we make our decsion. While mistakes might live in the world of hindsight, decisions live squarely in intention.

That bit needs to be a clear as day.

The difference between this fickle pair, mistakes and decisions, is not always obvious in the moment, mainly of course, because we tend not to make deliberate mistakes, but we absolutely make deliberate, and purpose-driven decisions. So let's dig a bit deeper with our trusty, trowel of truth...

It seems that nowhere does our distinction matter more than in our relationships with other people. When we choose to feel "hurt" by the words or deeds of others, we often perform a subconscious search for the explanation that allows us to move forward most easily. We naturally lean into the assumption that the hurt we are choosing to feel, was simply the result of a mistake. A misunderstanding. A temporary lapse in judgement on their part.

Often, this generosity is justified. Human beings are gloriously imperfect creatures. We act with haste. We jump on emails after the 5th glass of wine. We speak too quickly, act over-defensively or leave communication way too open to interpretation. None of this implies malice aforethought. It only requires being human.

But occasionally something else is at work. Occasionally the hurt we experience is not the result of a mistake, but of a decision. Not a slip, but the deliberate choice of others. And this distinction becomes much clearer, not in the actual moment of harm, but in what happens afterwards.

When we make a genuine mistake, a figurative flow-chart usually follows. There are brief stages of realisation, reflection, awareness and humility. The massive "Oops" moment we mentioned earlier, coupled with a genuine desire to repair whatever damage has been caused. The repair job is usually done with a simple apology. I say simple, but they are often a little uncomfortable also - as they are hopefully wrapped in some accountability. The hands up moment. The learning curve. In many ways, that is the price of restoring trust. Cake would also be nice, but it hasn't really caught on.

But when the harm done was the result of a made decision, the entire game changes. If things don't work out for the harm do-er, and the decision to deliberately wound us appears to have kicked off a really inconvenient domino effect - then the perpetrator of the damage, has to reach quickly for the emotional almanac. The apologies are no longer good enough. No longer sufficient for purpose and are quickly substituted for something else.

Enter... The Olive Branch. At first glance, it looks like an apology in high heels, especially if it is waved around with some kind words, or a grand announcement around its presence. But beware the Olive branch, dear reader. It is not repair - it is repositioning. A useful device, used by the divisive.

By extending the Olive branch, the person whose decision has more than slightly backfired, needs to appear to do the right thing. They need it to be public knowledge that they have "done the decent thing" - taken the high road. "Well, we tried to make things right..." they say to all who are bored enough to listen. "We offered an Olive branch.."

The Olive branch is only extended because the decision to cause harm has left the decider with a totally undesirable and unforeseen consequence. And for no other reason whatsoever.

And if the olive branch is not accepted? Well then something else, very subtle, happens. The narrative shifts, quite quickly. The focus moves away from the "original damage done" and towards the now "unreasonable position" and stubborn rigidity of the person who refuses to grasp the Olive branch. Um.. hang on.. how did that happen?...

Now, the problem is not the decision that caused the wound, the problem is our unwillingness to forgive it. Olive branches are not about genuine repair, but they are everything to do with access. A way back in to that part of the relationship that is too "useful" to throw away. And also, of course, a way for the perp' not being cast as the antagonist - the doer of harm.

And this is the moment where it gets a bit tricky. One of the most difficult lessons of my adult life was learning that not every olive branch needs to be quite so willingly accepted.

We are often taught that forgiveness is the only way forward. That "bigger people" are required to reopen the door. That generosity means allowing someone back into our lives simply because they have offered some form of reconciliation.

Nah...forgiveness and access are not the same thing.

You can forgive someone, privately or otherwise, and still decide that your life is better lived without their presence in it. Forgiveness is itself a bulky bag of rocks, meaning something very different for each of us, but in general, we do for our own peace of mind. We want to put down the bag of rocks, and just move on. It's heavy and it's boring to carry.

But access is something else entirely. Access has to be granted.

Sometimes the most balanced, thoughtful response to repeated, or reaffirmed decisions that hurt us, is simply distance.

Not distance born of anger. Nor is it distance that runs on the cheap gasoline of petty revenge. Just distance. A quiet, deliberate and gentle, closing of the door.

Because while everyone is capable of mistakes, and the joy of learning from them, not everyone is willing to examine the deliberate decisions that lead them to purposefully and knowingly wound others.

This is why protecting your peace is not cruelty. It is not "being stubborn". It is not the refusal to forgive. It is simply the recognition that your emotional wellbeing deserves care and respect. That you value your peace and you know your worth.

Closing the door does not mean wishing harm on the person who stands beyond it. In fact, it often means the opposite. It means that they get to continue their journey without your presence as part of their audience. It means stepping away from the cycle of misunderstandings, justifications, re-framings and dull repetitions that too often define relationships that were always headed this way.

Most importantly, however, it means trusting ourselves. Trusting that our sense of calm, dignity, and self-worth is not something that must be bargained with, compromised or negotiated away every time someone decides to extend an olive branch to publically make themselves look better.

In the end, mistakes and decisions reveal themselves over time.

Mistakes tend to produce humility. Decisions that harm tend to produce long, complex explanations, always - always - designed to deflect, and re-cast the perp' as the victim.

Learning the difference between the two is not about becoming cynical or suspicious of others.

It is about becoming wise enough to simply close the door, gently and without anger, and walk forward into a life that feels lighter, without needing to constantly explain why.