There's a story in American history of a general with an ego larger than the Atlantic ocean. Although he served a mad king, he thought if he won his battles, lined up the colonies like good little soldiers, his reward would be a few states as his personal hunting grounds.
But instead farmers with pitchforks and guerrilla tactics defeated the powdered-wigged general and the previously unconquerable British army. Cornwallis was so embarrassed by his surrender, he hid, sending a lower ranking officer to offer his sword as a sign of surrender.
He failed.
I moved back to Texas from Oklahoma this weekend because I quit a job which had become toxic.
In a six month period, the position I accepted seemed unrecognizable from the one I accepted. I looked at the options presented to me, and the most honorable option was walking away.
And it feels like a failure. Because I surrendered.
With a mom in a nursing home; a financial debt to cover 4 months of care equal to some student debt; after trying each day for six months to find my place and failing miserably, I surrendered.
I did not fail.
My mom is cared for by people I don't know and have to trust; and I can't see her every day. Both of these truths cut keenly, but are 'tis flesh wounds from 2 years' long battle to get her the care she needs.
The truth is strangers provide better, more encompassing care than I can as her daughter. And Oklahoma and I did not fit each other well. Both of these situations could have been battles I could keep fighting, losing ground each day to feed my ego.
Or I could accept the sheer force of my will does not dictate the outcome of this curiously organic life. And learn to accept surrender graciously.
Because Cornwallis and Oklahoma show, when I learn, surrender is not failure.
But instead farmers with pitchforks and guerrilla tactics defeated the powdered-wigged general and the previously unconquerable British army. Cornwallis was so embarrassed by his surrender, he hid, sending a lower ranking officer to offer his sword as a sign of surrender.
He failed.
I moved back to Texas from Oklahoma this weekend because I quit a job which had become toxic.
In a six month period, the position I accepted seemed unrecognizable from the one I accepted. I looked at the options presented to me, and the most honorable option was walking away.
And it feels like a failure. Because I surrendered.
With a mom in a nursing home; a financial debt to cover 4 months of care equal to some student debt; after trying each day for six months to find my place and failing miserably, I surrendered.
I did not fail.
My mom is cared for by people I don't know and have to trust; and I can't see her every day. Both of these truths cut keenly, but are 'tis flesh wounds from 2 years' long battle to get her the care she needs.
The truth is strangers provide better, more encompassing care than I can as her daughter. And Oklahoma and I did not fit each other well. Both of these situations could have been battles I could keep fighting, losing ground each day to feed my ego.
Or I could accept the sheer force of my will does not dictate the outcome of this curiously organic life. And learn to accept surrender graciously.
Because Cornwallis and Oklahoma show, when I learn, surrender is not failure.
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