Last week I replaced a headlight in my car, Tom Collins. However, before I did, I replaced THE WRONG headlight in my car. That is, I replaced the high beam on the driver’s (my) side rather than the low beam. Because under the hood it was and is the easiest light to get to, the most obvious. Of course, the high beam didn’t need replacing, and so after I changed it I still had a light out. Y’all, I was so frustrated. I checked fuses and everything. Thankfully, I finally figured out 1) I’d changed the wrong bulb and 2) where the right bulb was located.

At which point I changed that one, and everything was fine.

Well.

Last night I noticed that my passenger’s side blinker was going out (you know how your dashboard indicator light will flash, flash, flash, and click, click, click real fast when there’s a problem), so today I removed my passenger side taillight assembly in an effort to change the turn signal bulb. So. The assembly has three bulbs, and I guessed the blinker was the smallest one. Wrong. Then I guessed it was the one next to the smallest one, and that was it. However, I didn’t have a bulb that was the correct size. Only one that was ALMOST the correct size. So my sweet mother got me the correct bulb at Walmart (she was going anyway), and I changed it.

And things still didn’t work.

What the hell? I thought.

Finally I realized my car, like all cars, has TWO passenger-side blinkers. One in the back and ONE IN THE FRONT. Oh, THAT’S the one that’s out! I thought. Duh. So I changed that one.

And everything worked fine.

Despite the fact that I often get upset in these situations–like, why didn’t I figure things out sooner?–today I’ve been thinking about how nothing is ever truly a waste of time. For example, a few days ago I framed this fleur-de-lis brooch.

And wheres I told myself I only had one shot to get it centered correctly, I screwed it up. That is, I drilled a hole in the backboard (an old book cover), and it was a little to the left. Crap, I thought, crap, crap, crap. Well, ever persistent, I made the hole bigger, until it was centered. Or almost centered. Then I invented a new way to “hang” the brooch. It’s a little hard to explain, but usually I use a screw and a nut and “set” the brooch pin on the nut. Well, because the nut would have held the screw off-center, I left the nut out and instead used a screw and a washer. This ended up being the perfect thing. Without the nut in the mix, there was a little wiggle room, just enough space for slipping the brooch pin in between the washer and screw head and holding the pin in place, on center.

I hope this explanation makes sense.

Even if it doesn’t make sense, my point is that with each brooch framing mistake I make, I’m learning. Likewise, each time I replace the wrong bulb in my car, I’m learning. As a recovering perfectionist, I wish I could get all things right the first time, but still. Next time, things will go a lot faster.

As far as I can tell, this “mistakes are required for learning” thing applies not only to car repair and arts and crafts, but also to relationships and healing. God knows I haven’t mastered those things yet. But I’m willing to keep trying, and I think we have to be. To ask for help when we need it and to keep getting back in the ring with our friends and family and our chronic problems. (And yes, I realize your friends and family may BE your chronic problems). Anyway, more and more I’m realizing that the point isn’t a quickly changed lightbulb or perfectly centered brooch. The point isn’t perfect relationships or perfect health. Rather, it’s the learning. It’s what’s gained in between the falling down and the getting back up again.