I'm one of those people who decides what she's giving up for Lent partway into the season. Often, it's because Lent sneaks up on me (especially in a pandemic when Ash Wednesday looks dramatically different), but it's also because I try to use the time to kick off a long-term change. Often, the change I need to make doesn't present itself on the liturgical timetable.
This year, it made itself known not quite two weeks into Lent, as I was writing a blog post. This fueled my audiobook choice on the way home from work the next day and, when I got home, I took action.
The culprit in question (perfectionism) had the ironic good grace to announce itself as a candidate for change on the first of the month, one day after I'd avoided setting monthly goals because I was too overwhelmed to add anything to my list. It was also perfectly timed with an assignment I'd given one of my classes, motivated by a Pinkcast I'd happened across while attempting to clean out my inbox.
Irony? Good timing? A random podcast? All at once, just in case I wasn't paying attention? Leave it to God to send a gift-wrapped package.
Yes, I know we're supposed to give up pleasurable things. But we're also supposed to work on being better people. And dialing back my perfectionism definitely has benefits not just for me, but for my family as well.
Which is how this post landed in a blog about organization.When it comes to organizing, perfectionism can be an obstacle. While we wait for the just-right moment and the just-right container that will yield a perfectly organized space, we make no progress. If we just baby step our way in, choose a manageable block of time, and content ourselves with a little trial and error, we not only make progress, but we feel better, too. And, when we allow others the time and space to do things in a way that works for them, rather than a way that meets our rules, the outcome is often happier all around.
So, when I got home from my roundabout way home, I opted for a Schultz Hour. Opening up the goal-setting journal I'd abandoned the night before, I wrote down all matter of perfectionism-busting tidbits, beginning with my own take on identifying the problem:
"Recognize that perfectionism is a problem with pervasive effects."
From there, it was a matter of deciding what to do about that. Here are three tools I'm using to dial back perfectionism.
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Quotes. I've already mentioned the well-timed realization and podcast. The quote that arrived in my inbox the day after my unproductive goal-setting session was this one: "Act as if everything depended on you. Trust as if everything depended on God." (St. Ignatius of Loyola) Reading that quote reminds me that when we engage in perfectionism, we remember the first part, but forget the second part. Doing what we can is sufficient. For the rest, we need grace.
Questions. Taking a step back can give us wisdom. Simply asking myself "Does this need to be perfect?" paves the way for me to accept good enough when good enough truly is. And, when good enough isn't good enough, adding a single word can also release some of the pressure: does this need to be perfect now? Taking time to let a project "simmer" often yields a tastier result.
Notes to self. These range from "speak kindly" to "life is messy" and "delegate: other people are capable, too" and serve the purpose of reminding me that there are other choices besides forging ahead when I'm exhausted and not at my best. My perfectionism often manifests in workaholism, which means my family gets the leftovers. Neither a good plan nor a sustainable one.
Throughout Lent (and perhaps beyond), I want to build on these three things, adding new quotes, questions, notes to self and any other worthwhile bits of wisdom in my journal so I can expand my repertoire of tools necessary for giving my thinking periodic tune-ups. I also want to help my family think healthier, so I cleaned off the whiteboard I put in our dining room last December for the purpose of recording gratitudes. This time around, I also want to add some my quotes, questions and notes, beginning with my favorite takeaway from the book I was listening to: a journey is not a straight line. Perfectionists get frustrated when life pushes us off our neatly paved path, forcing us to take detours and even dirt roads but, sometimes, that's where the best stuff is.
Life is messy and imperfect -- no sense expecting otherwise.