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Picking up the Pieces

My heart goes out to all those who were affected by the dreadful train crash in Germany yesterday. And I recognise that it will bring back awful memories for anyone who has lost a loved one in a sudden and unexpected accident. I also feel keenly for the emergency services and passers-by who, without thinking, help in whatever way they can, and sadly have to literally pick up the pieces.

As I was catching up on emails last night at the kitchen table I had the TV on for background noise as He was working late. There was a programme about cyclists, drivers and pedestrians having their days or even lives ruined by another person’s careless or thoughtless moment.

Why do we get sucked into the mania of being so self obsessed that where we have to get to and what we have to do is so much more important than anyone else? And in order to achieve this are prepared to take risks not only with our own lives but the lives of others.

On a less drastic note I get frustrated when I have to pick up the pieces at work after a colleague’s new strategy isn’t properly considered. Details are overlooked or missed with little or no consultation, and yet when a parent calls up wanting to know more I find myself blustering and desperately trying to sound professional and supportive.

I also recognise that there are times when I have to bite my tongue because I have an opinion or experience that might relate to someone I’m talking to who really does not want to know. It can be so easy at times to wade in, assuming that the knowledge we are about to impart will save this person from making some kind of mistake. Misplaced advice can result in people feeling alienated and misunderstood. Sometimes we have to hold back and let them pick up their own pieces.

Picking up the Pieces – a poem

Be careful. Wait!

Damn – there goes my favourite vase.

I’ll hold my tongue

while you pick up the pieces.

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