Last year, I accidentally won a silent auction item which contained a coupon for a free Angel Card reading. You ever participate in a silent auction just because you want to say you participated in a silent auction? That’s how you win Angel Card readings, as it turns out. But I’m super into that kinda thing, so I forgot about it for a few months, suddenly remembered, and then managed to schedule a session with the reader with a couple weeks to spare before the coupon’s expiration date.

We met at a Starbucks where I nervously nursed an iced chai while we discussed my fate for about an hour. I like reading Tarot (if nothing else, it forces a perspective shift and gets me out of negative cyclical thinking patterns), so watching her place the cards in a ring to represent the months of 2019 felt familiar and comforting. The terrifying void of the future seems more tangible and therefore manageable when it’s laid out in a tidy 12 card circle, after all.

That void of 2019 loomed large for me at the time. Painful stuff was happening in my marriage and I felt I had no one to turn to who would understand or be able to help me sort through my own complex feelings. Plus, I didn’t want to hurt my wife by going too public with my hurt and fear. It was a complicated situation. A story for another time, maybe. I don’t think it’s fully my story to tell yet, despite the agonized part of me that wants nothing more than to scream my pain from the rooftops for the sake of my own relief and validation.

Anyway. A nice circle of 12 cards and a single card in the center to represent the overall theme of 2019:

Enchantment.

Golly, I sure do miss having the ability to resize images on this website. Anyhoo. I suppose that just means you get an extra-close look at the Enchantment card, which features everyone’s favorite fictional ungulate, the unicorn (actually, now that I think about it, there’s a pretty long list of mythical creatures with hooves, but are you really going to rank a Minotaur above a unicorn? Trick question. Don’t answer that.).

According to the reader (the very kind and joy-inspiring Karmen Fink), 2019 would be my year to embrace my magic and bring forward the suppressed pieces of myself that had taken the backseat in favor of the serious business of adulthood. In late 2018, my world looked bleak. In 2019, there would be a chance to reclaim some of my lost wonder and joy.

But there are no free lunches, are there?

My freedom and opportunity for joyful, unicorn-powered transformation came at a hell of a cost. My marriage ended in April despite my desperate attempts to save it. My soul feels skewered and I spend most days in a fog, mechanically going through the motions of survival now that the foundations of my future have been yanked from under my feet.

Through all the confusion and suffering, however, I’m learning some lessons and searching for a path through the unknown. I’m living my Year of the Unicorn, and this is the first lesson I’ve managed to digest:

Humans Are Fallible

I’ve known for a long, long time that I am fallible. I review my mistakes to an unhealthy extent and focus more on my shortcomings than my victories. I make a point of bettering myself wherever I can, though I’m not always successful (another shortcoming!). When something goes wrong, my first thought is always: “What did I screw up this time?”

There’s a flip side to fixating solely on my own real or perceived mistakes: I tend to ignore the possibility that other people can mess up too. Kinda self-absorbed of me, to be honest.

This isn’t about me faulting others or transferring blame for the sake of my own ego (though I’ve been guilty of that as well). This is about compassion. This is about not only recognizing that other people can make mistakes, but that empathy and grace should be extended to them despite those mistakes.

People screw up. People fail to think logically. People experience unresolvable internal conflicts that alter their decisions and interactions with the world. I am a being made of oopsie-dammits, and you probably are too.

A mistake by definition is an unintentionally wrong action. Nobody wants to botch a presentation at work or overcook their chicken parm, but these things happen despite our best intentions and most thorough preparations. Wouldn’t it be nice to live in a world full of other people who understand that and cut you some slack when you fail?

I’m trying to be a person who does that, and I’ve been on a trajectory toward that mindset since the start of my marital implosion. Instead of fuming over the driver that pulled out in front of me, I cool myself off and consider that it was a lapse in their judgment, and at least we didn’t hit each other. Instead of assuming a server is being rude to me out of spite, I recognize that they’re just trying to get through their shift, and their brusque greeting probably has nothing to do with me. In short, I’m determined to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. I’m offering kindness first instead of offense or malice.

It’s not easy, and there are of course people who will act with deliberate cruelty toward you in this world. There are also the people who make mistakes that harm you directly, and then handle those mistakes poorly, even callously. Again: fallible, fallible humans.

For the most part, though, people are the flawed protagonists of their own narratives, and you have the opportunity to be a tolerant and positive background or supporting character in their story every once in a while. Perhaps someone can do the same for you in your own “hero’s journey”.

That said, acknowledging that all people err is not the same as automatically dismissing all errors. I’m simply aiming to start with a compassionate attitude, aware that my compassion may occasionally be misplaced (still, that’s a mistake I’m willing to make!). You can be wronged by people, intentionally or unintentionally. Only you can determine the parameters of your tolerance. At some point, you must prioritize compassion for yourself.

But I still think that erring on the side of forgiveness is kinder not just to others but to your own heart. That driver who cut me off in traffic? I didn’t have to hold that sense of anger and indignation in my heart for more than a couple seconds. I let it go, and the weight lifted from my chest.

Not everything slides off so easily. I am still learning the lesson of fallibility and struggling to master the magic of kindness despite experiencing the emotional equivalent of that one Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff comic about the stairs.

Anyway. It’s a lesson in progress, but I’m getting the hang of it. If I’m to find my wonder again and become that joy-sparking unicorn that I aspire to be, I need to worry less about the things that have gone wrong and focus on the good that still exists in this world.

I’m encountering other lessons as well, but I need more time to absorb those before I share them. I’m probably jumping the gun on this lesson too, but hey: learning never ends. I may as well share my work in progress. It will give me a benchmark for the future.

This is my Year of the Unicorn, and I’m just getting started.