I don't know how to spell it but I can sure do it. Fortunately there are resources that will guide me toward the proper spelling of faux pas, so that I can get it right. 

 

Last week I managed to hurt two people's feelings. Lucky for me they were both willing to get together in person a few days later, and I did more listening than talking. Which is how forgiveness can enter into the broken place. Defensiveness is not fertile ground for apologizing. In both instances I came to understand and care for these precious people much more deeply than I might have, had there been no toe smashing. Which is counter intuitive. Bash into someone's heart, try to make it up to them, and be closer than you were before the collide?? What? It is almost as if missteps are part of the plan. Which makes no sense. 

 

Of course it would be better for everyone if we managed to avoid hurting one another. And yet something I cannot quite name emerges when we find out the tender spots. What another person truly loves. Avoiding clumsiness by staying far, far away is not as satisfying. To my knowledge I have never offended anyone in Yugoslavia, but neither do I have any meaningful connection to them. 

 

Springtime is when the local middle schoolers partake of ballroom dance lessons. Those years carry angst for many of us, with self consciousness being off the charts. And yet they will stand at an awkward arm's length, overly aware of their  lanky/pudgy/short/tall/blemished/hormonal bodies, and try to overcome those obstacles for the brief joy of waltzing in sync. 

 

Which it turns out is often more fun that staying home in bed for fear of stepping on a girl's toes.