By the time I walked through the door of my home the other evening, I had somehow allowed myself to plummet deep into a black hole of self-loathing and inadequacy. So when a piece of snail mail alerted me that my son had missed an important appointment I didn’t even realize was on the calendar, and time spent navigating the pharmacy’s automated menu was for naught culminating in the revelation that zero refills remain on the script, it was all I could do to keep the tears welling in my baby blues from breaking over their lash-lined dam. On most days these minor annoyances do not get to me, but piled on top of the twenty minutes I waited for the valet to retrieve my car from the packed garage, the two hours I spent in a meeting where I felt my presentation paled in comparison to the others, and the slow evaporation of the heads down time I had carved out to work on Monday’s presentation, even the extremely positive conversation with my manager that kicked off my day lost its shiny luster.
The raw imperfection of everyday life is a given, yet so many of us subconsciously expect to float through with everything going our way. If I follow the instructions for activating my Blackberry I should start receiving e-mails, right? There’s no accounting for the user who errs by typing in her e-mail address incorrectly, aborting the transfer. And so phone calls to IT ensue and when I identify my own problem I feel like a heel, like I’m somehow being judged as less-than when I admit my humanity to the patient administrative assistant who I’ve dragged into my mess. The number one flaw of a perfectionist is her inability to forgive herself for being a mere mortal.
It seems like the past few days everything I touch spawns personal disaster, so this perspective by one of my favorite HBR contributors, Peter Bregman, couldn’t have been posted fast enough. He challenges us to look at life as an experience rather than performance. Digesting this brought forward the revelation that I view nearly everything I do in my life as a performance. It is Oscar time at the office, with year-end evaluations of all employees in full swing, a knot growing in my stomach as I brace myself for the feedback that will come when I inquire about my score which will most definitely be less than I want it to be because I expect nothing less than perfection. I will attend a party this weekend where conversation will inevitably turn to teenagers and grades and the future. It’s nearly impossible not to compare my own to others.
The truth of the matter is when we stop worrying about how our actions look to, or are received by others, stop looking for accolades and appreciation for our performances; we’re able to begin enjoying the moments we’re living through. If I look at my experience at the board meeting the other day rather than evaluate my performance there, it becomes so much more. I met at least six new women; I learned about an aspect of our business I have limited exposure to; I gleaned who at the table is passionate about this cause in the same way I am; I understood how I need to reframe my ideas next time to be as influential as possible. How is that not a positive result?
Bregman’s words are inspiring me to take a different tack. I’m going to cross-train, bringing my approach to running into other areas in life. Running I approach wholeheartedly as an experience: An opportunity to get outdoors on a regular basis, to find beauty in whatever elements Mother Nature puts out there on any given day, a chance to challenge myself on trails, hills and asphalt. My companions patiently encourage me to take risks, making sure I acknowledge how far I've come. None of this would have been possible for me if I felt like I needed to perform. It is so easy to take risks because winning or even being close to the top is not an option for me. I’ve decided to forego the investment in training, accepting that my natural talent precludes me from excelling in this sport. And it doesn’t matter. Once the performance aspect is tossed aside it becomes amazingly easy to just be.
Wouldn’t it be great to let go like this everywhere in life and just fly?
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| Excerpt from my 2013 Sketchbook |
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