A few months ago, Real Simple sponsored an essay contest asking readers to share how they achieved balance in their lives. I didn’t enter the contest, but the essay wrote itself in my head anyway.
I have to remind myself daily, hourly, of how I can achieve balance in my life.
I’ve given up on perfection.
Perfectionism has chased me through life. It’s often the root of my procrastination and punctuality issues. It’s definitely a source of the severe anxiety that crops up occasionally.
I remember terrible stage fright at childhood recitals, not worried that my musical skills would fail me, but concerned that I wouldn’t be the best. And trying to write term papers…..heavens. My fear of mediocrity meant that I depended on sugar rushes and TV escapism to get me through my assignments.
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| Photo by Paul Nicholson. |
When I realized the havoc that perfection wreaked on my life, I became ready to let it go. Not that I could totally change my personality, mind you. But today I can make better choices, especially with the help of friends and a Power Greater Than Myself.
I am much better at cleaning house now than I was five years ago. In the past I could never find time to clean the house, because I couldn’t figure out how to set aside eight hours to get my house spotless. And if the bathroom grout still looked gross after scrubbing, then what was the point?
These days, I can do a quick sweep and wipe of the kitchen and think, “Meh, good enough.” And you know what? It is. Taking 5 or 10 minutes a day to get a room in my house sorta clean is way healthier than taking 8 hours twice a year to get my house totally clean. (And guess what? In a further acknowledgement of my imperfections, I now have a professional housecleaner help me out once a month. Asking for help — another key to giving perfectionism the boot.)
There are a couple of slogans I’ve read that help me get through life these days — “Anything worth doing is worth doing so-so,” and “Done is better than perfect.”
I’m learning to apply this joyful mediocrity even to friendships and motherhood. Sometimes my fear of relational mistakes has me keep people at arm’s length, but I’m learning that the risk of imperfection is worth the joy of presence and relationship.
I definitely still struggle with perfectionism. My determination to make this post a fantastically written piece of soul searching means that it has stayed an idea and not come to fruition until I felt brave enough to hammer out some words and release them into the internet wild. But I’m finding that a life lived imperfectly leaves so much room for grace and joy in my life. I never want to go back.
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