Are you so sure your mistakes are just mistakes? Or could they be building blocks to a success beyond any you imagined?

When my friend Dorothy goes home to visit her family each Thanksgiving, her mother serves the traditional “mistake salad”. The dish was born many years ago, Dorothy explains, when mother was using a cookbook to make a salad. In the process, by mistake, mother included half the salad ingredients (原料) from a recipe (食谱) on the left side of the open cookbook, and half the ingredients from a different salad recipe on the opposite page. Everyone enjoyed the salad so much that she continued to serve it every year. So it was really not a mistake at all.

Then there was the man named Alfred, who invented dynamite (炸药). When Alfred’s brother died, the city newspaper mistook his brother for him, saying in the news that the dead’s most famous act was the creation of bombs (炸弹). Surprised to consider that his name would forever be connected with destruction, Alfred wanted to leave a more positive impression on people. So he set a prize for people who made contributions to world peace. Now the Nobel Prize, set up by Alfred Nobel, is the most respected prize in the world.

Everything is part of something bigger, and so are mistakes. In his brilliant book Illusions, Richard Bach explains that every problem comes to you with a gift. If you only fix your attention on what went wrong, you miss the gift. If you are willing to look deeper and ask for the bright, the problem will disappear. You are left only with the learning, and you go forward on your path.

It was “Disabilities Day at the Capitol ” and I was there, along with hundreds of Georgians, hoping to get the attention of our legislators (立法者). My thoughts ran back to the days when I was struggling to deal with my hearing loss learning, often dependent on others to help me hear. Now I stood under the gold dome of the Georgia Capitol, a member of the disabled community claiming the rights of people with disabilities.

After the rally (集会) I followed the crowd across the street to a free lunch. Although the crowd was huge, I managed to find a place to sit. I introduced myself to the young woman on my right, Kendall. However, with my hearing loss and her serious speech disorder, a conversation with her was next to impossible.

After a few moments, I realized that Kendall’s personal attendant (护工) was not present. I asked if anyone knew where she was and found out there had been a family situation and the attendant had to leave. “But,” I said, “who’s going to feed Kendall?” My thoughts were racing: someone had to help Kendall. In admitting her need I had to at once declare my responsibility to help.

Surprisingly, Kendall spoke clearly with her eyes. It was those eyes that spoke to me that day as we were waiting for lunch. I asked if I might serve her lunch. She nodded “Yes!” and her eyes said “Thank you!”

Helping Kendall that day shows an important belief of my life: We need each other. With or without a disability, it is our need for each other that makes us have a good life.

For most of my adult life, I’ve felt slightly ashamed —not of something I’ve done, but of something I haven’t. Although I’m an independent person who has been to numerous countries, I’ve never gone on an overseas holiday alone. I’ve traveled with my parents, partners, kids and other families. I’ve travelled with my pet and joined tours where I knew no one but came out with lifelong friends.

But for a while, my failure to travel alone felt like a mistake. Solo travel is celebrated. I’ve seen a thousand pieces written by adventurous women who claim to have found themselves by crossing countries alone. Traveling solo makes you capable, they say. It pushes you out of your comfort zone. Every woman should travel alone at least once in her life!

And yet, I’ve never had an urge to do it. For one thing, I need a lot of people contact. A single day without meaningful conversation can leave me feeling depressed. Proper, engaging conversation is difficult when traveling alone. Even if you’re good at chatting with strangers, it isn’t always possible. I don’t want to worry about being alone on my travels. I want support and company during my adventures. I used to see this desire to be with others as some sort of flaw, but now I see it as a valid choice.

Traveling solo builds resilience. But so does life. I am a single parent raising three children while trying to juggle a career. I make endless decisions alone and deal with crises alone. I manage loneliness and fear. I don’t need to travel alone to build resilience. I have resilience in spades, I’m sure travelling overseas would push me further out of comfort zone. But you know what else pushed me out of my comfort zone? Being single in a society that values marriage. Earning a living in a difficult industry. Dating men I’ve met on an app. My life is effortful enough. I don’t need my travels to be effortful too.

Travel is incredibly valuable, no matter what your stage of life. It teaches you how diverse the world is and how to appreciate your culture in relation to another. It stretches your mind and gives you a new viewpoint.

And you don’t need a solo journey to become an independent woman. I assure you that life will get you there in the end.