If you are not a perfectionist, do not read any further. For the love of God, don't read any further.
If you are a perfectionist (and you know who you are), please continue.
Recently someone commented to me about my divorce. "I had no idea anything was wrong - everything looked so perfect from the outside." To me, this conjurs disturbing images of Annette Bening having a meltdown in American Beauty. But, I can kind of see what that person was saying. We all know we fall into making false assumptions about other people's happiness, beauty and general well-being because of image - because of Facebook, other social media and even holiday cards - we see everyone's pictures and they all look so insanely happy, well-rounded and adjusted.
I actually don't think I fall into the category of perfectionist who wants to create a perfect image, because the way I am perceived by others has not been overly important to me (at least since I was about 19 or 20). But, I have been looking at other ways in which I might be a perfectionist. Perhaps a perfectionist on a deeper level. And a level that might be more damaging, if I don't take the opportunity to change. Here's what I mean: For me, it's never been so much about what other people think - I am very comfortable for people to know that I have struggles, my family is quirky, and I am probably more eccentric than I even know.
The way I have been a perfectionist has been in my spiritual life. I have always had the idea that I should the best human being I can be. In Into The Woods, one of Sondheim's lyrics is, "Nice is not the same as good." I get that. I've always had a weird relationship with being good. Sometimes I bristle when other people tell me I'm good or think I'm good because of the work I do, but I've always wanted to be good in the eyes, for lack of a better word, in the eyes of God. And also myself. Maybe I thought, on some unconscious level, that it is our life's purpose to be spiritually GOOD: To love unconditionally, to look for the best in others, to forgive easily, to see our own shortcomings and ways we may have hurt others and own up to those and change. Somehow I think I conflated two things though - trying to be good and trying to be perfect. Underneath my wanting to simply have integrity with myself, I think I wanted or expected myself to be super-human in my emotional/spiritual evolution. I think this has caused me to scrutinize myself and always ask, "couldn't I be a better person?" To hold my imperfections with a tight fist, rather than a loose hand. To, at least inwardly, take myself seriously. To be too cautious and too hard on myself.
Guess what? I am changing. I am broadening my approach to this human life. I'm thinking and feeling that loving perfectly, or having enough hubris to think you can perfect your spiritual self, maybe is ugly in it's own way. Maybe loving imperfectly and allowing messiness is actually what it means to be a 'good' human. I love this clip from Moonstruck (one of the best all time and most romantic movies ever):
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k7WkN_gPNaM I also want to add - Who wouldn't go upstairs with this guy?!?
As Nick Cage says - 'Snowflakes are perfect. Stars are perfect. We are not here to be perfect. We are here to make a mess of things.' Well, we are going to make a mess of some things whether we intend to or not. And maybe if we keep everthing so orderly that we don't make a mess of things, we are not fully living our one, human life.
When I was a sophomore in college, I took a Greek Philosophy class - we learned about the idea of Arete - the virtue of excellence. I remember going to my professor during office hours - he was probably 60 years old, hunched over, a lifelong academic and he carried an unlit cigarette in his hand all the time. He waved it around for effect during class. I said to him, "Professor, I would like to live with virtue and excellence. You see, I'm a runner, but I also smoke. How can I run with excellence if I'm a smoker?" I asked this so sincerely. So earnestly. Here's what he said, "You're missing the fucking point."
There is an idea that I recently became aware of in Japanese art - wabi-sabi. The beauty of imperfection, the beauty of what is impermanent. Loosely translated, it's something like, "stark and withered." I like it because the point of view that imperfection is beautiful seems revolutionary to our American psyches.
Maybe you are a perfectionist in how you keep your house. Maybe you are a perfectionist in how many times a week you work out. Maybe you want to be the perfect daughter, the perfect employee, the perfect volunteer. It is probably time to look at what is driving that - is it the way you were raised? A need to be in control? A response to chaos in other places in your life?
Perfectionists, I'm not advocating totally giving up. I'm advocating loosening up. Why? Because maybe that's the best way to embrace this life, to really live, to (as my professor so eloquently put it) not miss the fucking point.
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