7 Mistakes I've Made & What I've Learned From Them

I think of life as a mountain range—more specifically, the Rockies. You’ve got to climb the ups and downs of life’s peaks to fully experience it. What goes up, must come down. Some days are a walk-in-the-Rocky-Mountain-National-Park and others are a full-on, 14er conquering sesh.

I’m a pretty decisive person. But there are days where I reach the Continental Divide, and, in classic post-grad fashion, question, “Who am I? What should I do with my life? Should I move east or west?” 4 years ago, I chose east (Woo, go BU!). Now, it’s time to head west (Colorado, here I come).

Life is a beautiful challenge. We live, love, lose, learn and make a whole lot of mistakes. Here are some of mine and a few things I’ve taken away in the process.

Mariah and I post-cardio jazz funk spring show 2017.

1. Whipping too hard in dance class.

When it comes to my joints and limbs, I somehow forget mid- Zumba rumba that I’m #1—not invincible and, #2, the least flexible person I know.

In my favorite college class of all time, Cardio Jazz Funk, I went a little too wild while dancing to Beyoncé and botched my shoulder in the process. I landed in Physical Therapy for the next 3 months, which was a convenient 30-second walk from my apartment building.

Lessons learned? Zumba will make you feel like a mix between an early-2000’s Shakira and Iron Man. However, you don’t have limbs of steel and you’ve only got one body. Please take care of it. For goodness sake, you’re only 22. P.S. I still love Zumba.

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2. “Training” a goat at Zoo Camp.

I don’t know a lot about raising a goat, but let me tell you right now. Goats weren’t meant to be trained.

They should be gallivanting through green meadows while chowing down on socks dangling from nearby laundry lines. Or scaling rock faces while Julie Andrews performs a mashup of “The Hills Are Alive” and “The Lonely Goatherd” in the background.

I love goats. They’re my favorite animal and I will one day run a goat sanctuary. At 14 years old, I decided to follow my heart and attend a goat camp at the Minnesota Zoo.

At this camp, I chose my beloved, black-and-white beauty from the herd and narrowed down a list of ten names to pick the perfect one: Harley Mae.

Over the week, I “trained” Harley Mae to follow a handmade target. Each time she “beep-booped” the target, I gave her a treat. Basically, I just handed out freebies.

On the last day, all of the parents gathered to witness their kids’ handwork and dedication. When it came time to show Harley Mae, she somehow managed to crisscross through none of the orange cones. Not a single one! I was a proud mom.

Lessons learned? In the *adapted* words of Miley Cyrus, “Goats can’t be tamed, can’t be changed.” They are independent, fiercely stubborn, and got spunk. All admirable qualities. Basically, I learned how to be confident from a goat.

Left: A proud camper feat. Harley Mae. Right: A proud goat yoga enthusiast.

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3. Backing up into my garage door (and a tree).

I was late to my my first period AP US History class on more than one occasion. On one typical rush-about morning, I reversed my car into the garage door and proceeded to open it without driving forward first. Got a little scratch from that one.

Fast-forward to this past summer. I was all flustered trying to exit a guest parking area—in the woods mind you—and reversed into a tree. Tree was fine. My car got a nice little beauty mark.

Lessons learned? Back up into things less. Take a deep breath. Be on time.

4. Forgetting to waterproof my pack during a 5-day backcountry trip.

On day one, we arrived to camp mid-thunderstorm. While scrambling to set up tents, I opened up my entire pack and basically let the rain gods have at it. My clothes were soaked for the remainder of the trip and my organic, DEET-free bug spray did not save me from the blood-sucking, skeeters.

Lessons learned? Sometimes a rain cover doesn’t cut it. A makeshift pack liner from a garbage pack should do the trick. Also, dry bags! They come in handy for absolutely everything when in the backcountry and are my favorite piece of gear.

Left: The Porkies in Michigan, August 2019. The backcountry is beautiful! Right: When it rains, it pours.

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5. Leaving my sunroof open during a hail storm.

The next morning, I went to my car to grab something and discovered a lake inside! Add that to MN's already extensive collection and you've got "The Land of 10,001 Lakes."

For weeks, it was like entering Shrek’s swamp each time I stepped foot in the thing—steamy windows accompanied by a murky stench.

Weeks later, I somehow dried the thing out and avoided what could have been my most *expensive* mistake yet.

Lessons learned? Triple check your windows, doors and roofs. Mother Nature is a boss lady. She’s not messing around. Sometimes, you get lucky and you shouldn’t take it for granted.

6. Leaving my digital camera on a plane (with 2,000 photos on it).

Never ever eveR evER eVER EVER AGAIN, will I make this mistake. In 2011, We had just landed in London after a 2-week bus trip around Ireland and Scotland. I’d captured photos of sheep, castles, Nessie, sheep, fancy doors and sheep.

I realized my loss as soon as we set foot in the hotel. And oh boy, was I distraught.

By some serious stroke of luck—maybe it’s the Irish in me? —we called the airport and learned that a cleaning crew-member found the camera, turned it in and sent it back to Heathrow.

I received it about 3 days later and will always treasure the 1st-gen replacement iPhone photos I took while Cam was away.

Lessons learned? Memories are the most important souvenir from any adventure. When my bones are creaking and my memory needs a little reminding, I’m hoping that those photos can provide me with 3/10th of the feelings I experienced while venturing around the world. Plus, I want to show my grandkids that I’m a cool grandma. So, keep track of your things. Save the important stuff, and get rid of the rest.

One of my favorite photos taken in Nairn, Scotland. Why don't we have these in the states?

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7. Getting off at the wrong bus stop in the middle of London.

When I turned around, all I could see was the big, red double-decker—with my entire family on it—speeding away.

What did 14-year old me do? I ran around the entirety of Piccadilly Circus. For the next 5 minutes, I sprinted alongside the bus while three angry mothers aboard screamed at the driver to stop. He didn’t.

Even the tour guide got in on the action, yelling full-blast into his mic, “MICHAELA! It’s GOING to BE OK.”

Any good Hollywood chase scene must come to an end, right? When the bus reached the next stop, so did I.

Lessons learned? Run, Forest, Run. That is all.

—MJ