Stubbornness

When someone says stubborn, what comes to mind? Donkey? Moody children? Someone you truly believe is the epitome of imbecilic levels of recalcitrance? If you asked me what first pops into my head at such a mention, I would tell you that the answer is, quite simply, myself. It probably started after my childhood addiction to various genres of books that very few eight year olds have any desire to peruse. Should you be curious, you should know that my diet of reading material has shifted, partly by choice but primarily by circumstance.

This may have been mentioned in posts of yore, but my project in Rwanda has been transferred to other people. I suspect a reason that the donors wanted to pass the project to some Rwandans was my unwillingness to budge. In a rather frank manner, I told the donors that I wouldn't return to finish the project until they had fully developed their plan and had released the funds. I was needed elsewhere and didn't have time to sit idle. That didn't go over well. It wasn't terribly tactful, but it did remove an oxcart load of stress.

Fast forward to last week.

Twas mere days before Christmas and through the compound,
Few azungus at desks or chairs could be found.
For most had epic plans at places quite far,
But most took the bus in lieu of a car.

That left just a handful to hold down the fort,
But plenty of problems did workers report.
'This printer is causing an absolute scare!
Please fix it before I pull out my hair!'
Accounting software took a brief holiday,
For hour upon hour my nerves did it fray.
"Emergency fixes," too many to count,
The pressure to finish them started to mount.
Without any time, my decisions were made.
Consequences of such with me have they stayed.
Although some were happy by the time I went home,
Others said "Fine!" with a "Hmmph" and a groan.

At the set of the sun there was I in great need
Of encouraging words from across the sea.
"This isn't your fault, you cannot feel bad
It was going to happen, no matter how sad
You did all you knew to the best that you could
It will all work out for the ultimate good."
Despite their kind words which I desired so much,
I felt it was I who had pulled out the crutch,
Wrecking the day by my inability
To admit it's not my responsibility.
As I am learning to deal with my own stubbornness,
Which is something I very much need to address,
It's clearer to me that in order to live,
It is me who I cannot forget to forgive.