Matshona Dhliwayo once said, “An archer must never blame the target for missing it.” It’s a simple but powerful idea. It reminds us to look at our actions and choices instead of blaming others when things don’t go as planned.
Too often, we take good advice and put it in little boxes. We label it as “work advice,” “parenting advice,” or “relationship advice.” We treat different parts of our lives as if they’re separate from each other. But what if we didn’t? What if we used the lessons we learned in one area of life in all the others? What if we stopped dividing our lives into categories and started seeing everything as connected?
I’ll admit it: I fail. A lot. I fail as a husband, as a dad, and as a person. When my kids spill water on the floor, my first reaction is to get annoyed. I feel frustrated because now I have more work to do. But if I’m being honest, I’m missing the point. I’m blaming the wrong thing. I’m blaming my kids, my “target,” when the fault lies with me.
Kids are still learning about the world. They’re figuring out how things work, like how gravity makes water spill and how to control their hands. They aren’t trying to make a mess; they’re just learning. So why do I get frustrated? I expect them to act like they already know things they haven’t been taught. That’s on me. I should guide, teach, and give them time to grow. I know it’s my job at work to train and encourage people. Why shouldn’t I do the same at home?
The same idea applies to my marriage. It’s easy to get annoyed when my wife doesn’t meet an expectation I’ve set. Maybe the dishes aren’t done, or the curtains aren’t hung up yet. But have I ever told her those things matter to me? Or am I just assuming she should know? If I haven’t communicated, that’s my fault, not hers. Expectations are only fair when both people understand them.
Life’s frustrations usually aren’t one-sided. Just like I feel disappointed sometimes, so do the people I love. My kids are figuring out their world, and I’m still figuring out mine. My wife has her own hopes and challenges, just like I do. Leadership—whether at work, home, or anywhere else—requires grace. It means being patient and kind, even when others make mistakes. It’s easier to show grace to strangers or coworkers than the people we love most. Why? Because we feel safe with them. We trust they’ll forgive us, so we let our frustrations show. But that doesn’t make it right.
We must remember that everyone—our kids, spouse, and friends—is facing their own struggles. For every time they frustrate us, we probably frustrate them just as much. If we can show grace to coworkers or strangers, we can also show it to our loved ones. Being a good leader—and a good person—means looking at ourselves first.
Don’t blame the target. Look inward. When we do, we find ways to grow, forgive, and do better. Being a better human starts with how we treat the people closest to us. Take the lessons we learn in one part of life and use them to improve every part. Aim true.