I am Sorry!

 A few days ago, my mother had an upset stomach after eating white chanas in the evening...clearly not her best digestive decision. As I cared for her, I quietly took on the role of the household “food police,” issuing internal guidelines about what should and should not enter her plate.

Now, the irony? My mother happily eats samosas every now and then and survives just fine. But when I saw our house help, Sunita, offering her some homemade khoya she had lovingly brought from her village, my alarm bells went off. In my head, I had already drafted a full-blown digestive disaster.

I reacted. A little too quickly, a little too firmly.

And then Sunita, with complete calm, said, “Didi, if she can digest samosas, why not this? This is homemade.”

Touché.

There it was.....a simple, grounded truth cutting through my panic.

Here I was, trying to control everything in the name of care, while completely missing the obvious.

I apologized to Sunita. And more than that, I felt something soften within me. Maybe we don’t always need to get it right. Maybe we just need to stay open enough to see when we’ve gotten it wrong.

This was an humbling moment… standing in my own kitchen, being gently corrected by someone who simply saw more clearly than I did.

Sunita said it better.

There is joy...peace.. humility in saying sorry.

It's sacred to the soul.