Almost A Year. I've Learned A Lot. About One Thing.
“As I chase perfection, whatever that looks like on a given day, I am also saying to myself that I must know it all, remember everything, fix every mistake, and perform at my peak everywhere I go. That is not humanly possible. ”
I started a blog because I have lots of thoughts and I am also a writer. Naturally, I thought those two together would combine into this fabulous outcome of frequent blog posts. Filled with new learnings. A-ha moments of starting an organization. Tips for people who might be in the same boat. Or even a nice fun sneak peek into new book ideas.
But alas… as we can all see from the blog post date, it has been nearly a year since writing anything on there.
That is not for not wanting to. Or at least for not wanting to want to though.
So here we are, almost a year after my “playing bigger” and “re-emerging” and I wish I had a beautiful summary of all things - from accomplishments to failures (that I would then spin as a road toward success) and losses to gains.
But I don’t.
On the contrary, I have only one bullet point:
It’s okay to not _________.
Almost a year has passed. And I have learned a lot. A lot about ONE thing. It’s that blank space. That open opportunity to show myself grace. That area in my career and calling that isn’t so clear. That part of the sentence that can seem underwhelming on the outside but perhaps so overwhelming on the inside.
Allow me to fill in the blank with just a few examples:
It’s okay to not _________.
know
remember
fix
perform
chase
Over the year, there were many events that I feel proud of. Collaborations. Community. Culture. Yet I sit there on my couch just a day after the “success” counting all the things that should have gone better. I see areas where I could have improved. Spots where I ought to have paid closer attention. Places I should have collaborated with. People I forgot to invite. Posters I didn’t print. Yet, what I failed to recognize and see was that I neglected a huge part of building up an organization and starting something new.
I failed to celebrate.
I skipped over that step thinking that is only an exercise to do with others. But it’s not true. When I fail to celebrate, I am not respecting the price tag attached to those efforts. In order to plan for any event, it take time, energy, and effort. Those come at a cost. Usually for me, the price is usually sleep, stress, and sanity. I had to admit that I needed rest because I was not okay. The pressure I placed on myself kept me going but really it was the adrenaline that kept me from falling over. Focusing only on the negative only made things worse.
At one point, I realized I was not taking my own advice. I often say grief is a process, it is not linear. It is a journey. Well, so it success. So is a start-up. So is raising a family. Hmm… I am starting to see the connection.
When someone grieves, I also find that self-care is often the first thing the person forgets to do.
Wait. Was I grieving something about Rooster & Hen this year? Is this a grief thing? A loss of some kind?
…
…
Ahhh… I know it now.
I was and maybe still am grieving that this journey did not go according to plan… I am grieving the supposed plan. I am grieving the expectation of certain outcomes. I am grieving the loss of specific victories. I am grieving a career with more control. I am grieving how I thought success would look like, smell like, and be like.
I am grieving perfection. Wow. That was not easy to say (or type). Well, the first step is recognition, right?
Often that keen awareness doesn’t come until we get to a point of being lost as we try to find the fastest way to our desired destination. When we are lost, we suddenly become acutely aware of our surroundings, desperately searching for clues to take us back to a more familiar place. A safe place.
For me, that destination was assured success tied in a nice neat bow. My safe place is a place where I am intentional and thoughtful. Intentional about my emotional wellbeing and mental health so that I could show up for my family, my community and my people. Thoughtful about my own capacity and choices so that I can stay inquisitive, sensitive, and helpful. That safe place was where I decided to start this non-profit in the first place. Let me go to there.
As a human being in a humanity-driven field, that constant strive for almost robotic perfection sure sounds counter-intuitive huh? Almost ironic. Yet, it is also authentically me. So I suppose I need time to pause, reflect, and check in with myself more often.
So here is my conclusion. I suppose I do have a summary of sorts:
As I chase perfection, whatever that looks like on a given day, I am also saying to myself that I must know it all, remember everything, fix every mistake, and perform at my peak everywhere I go. That is not humanly possible. No wonder I feel like I am failing, even when I am not. No wonder I feel behind, even when I am right where I need to be.
It’s time to be human again.