A teacher of mine often says "no wrongness" when he hears the shaming and blaming statements people so often make in session. I loved this concept and began sharing it with my clients.

This teacher speaks primarily about conscious parenting, so of course this is a far easier concept to introduce to our children. At a young age, children rarely have a concept of what "wrong" even is, apart from the cultural "shoulds" and "shouldn'ts" pushed on them by adults. Children show concern for others in distress as early as three months old, long before they become toddlers. Yet the age at which children develop moral accountability in the way adults often expect comes much later. Theorists like Piaget and Kohlberg placed mature moral reasoning at age 10 or older, well after the age our society begins to push punishment and discipline.

Is it any wonder we are so eager to punish ourselves?

This doesn't mean that people don't do "wrong" things. However, the vast majority of people who work with me are deeply empathetic, and research has linked empathy with a lower likelihood of harming others. I tell my clients that if everyone on the planet were like the clients I see, we could all, right now, unlock our doors. It's true.

Even if we treat the concept of wrongness as a path to self-improvement, we have to ask ourselves how often we actually learn from the heavy self-flagellation people so often fall into. In the endless mazes of our minds, we can become so consumed with all the "shoulds" and "shouldn'ts" buried in our psyche that we forget the importance of being present with the people around us. Our children, our pets, our own self-care: all can go unattended as we berate ourselves about the ways we either offended someone or were offended by someone who, more often than not, doesn't love us, doesn't know us, or abandoned us.

And yet these daily wounds hurt us deeply, and clients often feel the need to "forgive" themselves for the most minor infractions. Self-forgiveness is vital, especially when we did not receive much forgiveness as children. As adults, we are no longer here to please the adults in our lives or to abide by some cultural guideline that even our parents never bothered to question. We are now on a journey to live from our highest essence and purpose. As I remind my clients, we're ultimately here to learn spiritual lessons, to grow, and to become the best versions of ourselves. We are here to love ourselves and others more. What other purpose is there?

We get lost in the overwhelming muchness of life and suddenly find ourselves in the middle of ego projects. Never lose your real vision or your core purpose!

If we are here to grow, then growth will inevitably involve struggle, challenge, pain, and mistakes. They may be minor in scope, but we know, more than anyone else, when we have not lived up to our own standards. We also know that when we fall into a pattern of self-flagellation, we become less present, less self-aware, and less capable of moving past our mistakes. Do not be ashamed of your mistakes. As Richard Rohr teaches, in the second half of life we learn far more from failure than from success. How often do you learn from following your GPS perfectly? Try getting lost with a map sometime and see how well you remember that route and how much you notice about your surroundings. Our mistakes teach us more than our successes, and they teach others as well. They make room for greater understanding and connection.

The more loving and forgiving we are of ourselves, the more capable we are of honestly admitting mistakes, taking ownership, and working through them to make things right. Ironically, the only path toward humility, self-acceptance, and a deep awareness of others' feelings is to loosen our grip on moral judgment. We aren't perfect, and neither is anyone else. Who are we to be above making mistakes? If we can accept our own imperfections, we can accept others' as well.

Notice the relief in your body when you begin to recognize that the everyday hurts you experience likely have nothing to do with you; they are the same hurts we all experience. And notice how much better it feels in your body when you offer a sincere apology with genuine ownership: "I was giving you advice you didn't ask for because I was consumed with my own need to be right, instead of your need to be heard." We can only offer apologies like that once we've grown tired of self-punishment and can shrug our shoulders and say, "Why not?"

So instead of saying "I shouldn't have done that," say: "I did, and I have the strength to take accountability and correct whatever damage I may have caused." Our friends want us to show up for them. They don't want us to be perfect.