I've recently become more aware of just how frequently I utter those words and the situations in which I find myself issuing the apology.
The Webster's definition of an apology is "a regretful acknowledgement of an offense or failure." How many offenses or failures could I possibly be the source of in any given day?! I'd like to think I'm a fairly appeasing personality; going out of my way to avoid confrontation and polarizing behavior. Yet, the apologies flow seemingly without effort or hesitation. I say it so often, I end up saying I'm sorry for saying, "I'm sorry."
My son can't find his socks. I'm sorry. It rained during my husband's run. I'm sorry. Heavy traffic caused me to be late for dinner. I'm sorry. The clothes washer suddenly quit working. I'm sorry. My workplace printer is too loud and disturbs others. I'm sorry. I'm having a bad hair day. I'm sorry.
Wow. When I take a step back and look at just a few of the circumstances surrounding my daily apologies, using the "official" definition, it becomes pretty clear I can't possibly be sorry for those things. How am I supposed to know where my son hid his socks? When was the last time I had any control over the weather? the traffic? household appliances? workplace electronics? or (let's be honest) my hair?
And if I don't have any control over these things, how can they be viewed as my offenses or failures? Easy answer is...I let them. I allow myself to take the blame for all things that may hinder, inhibit, upset,or inconvenience those around me. Even when I could not possibly alter the outcome or perception, I take responsibility.
On the other hand, am I really issuing an apology for these things, or am I simply "sorry"? Using the same source, the definition for 'sorry' is "feeling distress, especially through sympathy with someone else's misfortune; exhibiting empathy." By saying "I'm sorry" so often, am I merely connecting with people in a deeply emotional way? Am I internalizing their pain, stress, anxiety and frustration, making it possible for me to truly comprehend how they feel?
My parents like to share a story about the funeral I attended when I was around 5 years old. Funerals are no place for kids, but as the story goes, I walked around the room full of mourning adult strangers, and proceeded to pass out gentle hugs and tell everyone I met that, "It's going to be okay." A five year old cannot grasp the litany of emotions associated with a loved one's death, but I did. I cried that day, not for myself, but for the others. I could feel their sorrow as if it was my own.
Truth be told, I still cry for the others. My tears come on suddenly and mercilessly; triggered most often by what someone else is actually feeling, or what I think I would be feeling if I was in their shoes. Those emotions of fear, hopelessness, helplessness, pain, heartache, and anguish are as real as if they were borne from my own heart and soul. (Side note: This is not to say I don't also feel the joy, excitement, happiness, and awe that others feel as well, but in the context of this post, these emotions would not evoke an apologetic response on my part).
That's why I say "I'm sorry" for the things I cannot control. Not because I am admitting some sort of twisted guilt for my humanness. Not because I am confessing fault in what may be a blameless situation. But rather, because I know how you feel. Even if I haven't been there before, I know the path you are taking. I can sense the breadth and depth of what lies behind your words. And for that, I will no longer be sorry for saying, "I'm sorry".