Grasping Nettles

When I was a kid, I read a story called Grasp the Nettle Firmly, by Enid Blyton (1940s English author, par for the course - I read almost nothing but English children's books throughout my childhood). It was a kind of prissy, moralistic story (par for Enid Blyton, much as I love her descriptions of quaint WWII-era England) about how a boy named George gets in trouble by running away from his problems. He's washing his hands in the loo and the soap squirts out of his hands and flies out the window, and instead of immediately fessing up to the headmaster, he quietly mooches back to his seat and doesn't say anything. The next boy to use the toilet runs back and says, "The soap was gone! George was the last to use it, he must have taken it!" and everyone blames him. This is part of a sequence of incidents, each leading to the next; because George's hands aren't clean he can't eat his lunch, so the headmaster decides he's ill, so he gets sent home, etc. Everything just keeps escalating.

In the end he realizes that all the misunderstandings could have been averted if he had just faced the first one head-on and accepted responsibility. An old plowman tells him that if you grasp a nettle tentatively, it will sting you, but "grasp the nettle firmly and it can do you no harm." (I'm not sure that's true. It seems to me that the nettle's stinging hairs would puncture your skin no matter how firmly you took hold of it - you might avoid injury if you grasped it at a certain angle, or slid your hand onto the nettle brushing the hairs back as you went.)

Anyway, I was thinking about this story recently because I've had occasion to apply its lesson. At work, I had to get a bunch of participants conferenced in for a big meeting by phone, and I screwed it up. It was awkward, because everyone who was there had to sit around waiting while I got the folks on the phone, and it took some time. Even as it was happening, I knew my boss was going to take me aside later and have one of those talks with me, like she does every time I mess something up. I hate sitting around in dread, not knowing when she's going to call me in for it. My instinct was to just hide in the bathroom the rest of the day. But after the meeting, not giving myself time to even think about it, I went right to her office and proactively apologized for wasting people's time. I explained what I'll do to avoid the problem in future and explained why I had made the mistake in the first place (thought our phone system could do something it couldn't). I could tell she appreciated my forthrightness. I noticed that she had written on her to-do list my name and "find out why not prepared for mtg." I saw her cross it off the list as I turned to leave the office, and felt a rush of relief at having gotten it over with. Whew!

I've also been feeling upset and worried recently about a situation with some of our neighbors. The utility company cut a bunch of branches from one of their trees and left the branches in a pile on their lawn. We also had some big branches down after a recent storm, too big to get rid of easily. After the work crew drove away, I figured they would be back soon with a truck to pick up the pile, so I dragged my branches across the street and added them to the heap. I thought the pile of branches would get picked up within the hour. Instead, it just sat there all afternoon, and all the next day. I started feeling intensely guilty for dumping my branches on the neighbor's lawn. I finally went over to talk to them about it - they weren't home, so I left a note in their door explaining what I had done.

Later, the neighbor came over to talk to me. He was sort of nice on the surface, but veiled-threat underneath, said some things about how he didn't know me, and how it's not right to "throw trash on other people's property." I was very apologetic and said (about four times) that I would remove my branches, but each time he told me not to, and ended with "if you take those branches back, I'm calling the police to arrest you for trespassing." It seemed like it might have been a joke, except that he wasn't smiling.

The trash pick-up day came and went, and no one picked up the branches. After a week of stewing about it, I finally called the county to see if I could schedule a pickup, and was told that it's the homeowner's responsibility. I felt really stuck - wanted to fix the problem, but he had blocked my ability to do so by telling me not to take the branches back. I felt dread and guilt every time I looked out the window at that pile of branches, to the point that I wished we could move away.

I finally grasped the nettle today. I baked a loaf of banana bread and took it over to the neighbors. The wife answered the door and was perfectly nice to me. I apologized again about the branches and said that we would remove them. Then I got my husband to help me saw them up into small pieces, tied them in bundles, and put them on our lawn. They should be regulation-size now so the trash guys will take them. (I hope I don't get arrested.)

Once I was finally able to fix the issue, I felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I know I'm silly to let such a little thing throw me. I just can't handle confrontation. The whole time the banana bread was baking I was trembling with nervousness and didn't want to go over there - afraid of getting yelled at. I just told myself, "Take your medicine!" and went through the motions, wrapping the warm loaf in tin foil, getting my daughter's coat on, carrying her out the door with me, until the whole incident was over and I could relax.

Hoping now that I won't need to grasp any more nettles for a little while.