I don’t think we realize how much Buddhist nuns and champion auto racers have in common. From Pema Chödrön’s When Things Fall Apart:
From an awakened perspective, trying to tie up all the loose ends and get it together is death, because it involves rejecting a lot of your basic experience. There is something aggressive about that approach to life, trying to flatten out all the rough spots and imperfections into a nice smooth ride.
To be fully alive, fully human, and completely awake is to be continually thrown out of the nest…
Death is wanting to hold on to what you have and to have every experience confirm you and congratulate you and make you feel completely together.
And from Mario Andretti:
If everything seems under control, you’re just not going fast enough.
A little less spiritual, perhaps, but the underlying sentiment’s the same: There’s a zero-sum relationship between exerting control and living life to its fullest. Whether we’re searching for enlightenment or just trying to go faster, we have to let go a little (or a lot), accept loose ends and rough spots, and embrace it all.
Photo of eagle’s nest by pfly, and photo of auto race by anonfx. Yay Flickr and Creative Commons.
5 Responses
YES: embracing it all! I’ve just reread When Things Fall Apart for the sixth time, and the most resonant truth for me this time around is the idea that perfectionism is a type of aggression against the self. It’s challenging me to do some radical reprogramming. Thanks, Ed, for bringing together the loose ends of letting go and letting ’em resonate for us!
“Perfectionism is a type of aggression against the self.”
That’s a big “A-ha!” concept for me, Sage. My understandable impulse to do things to the best of my abilities can easily cross over into an irrational perfectionism. And at that point some of my positive qualities (diligence, thoroughness, an attention to detail) become counter-productive liabilities. I lose sight of the big picture and bury myself in the weeds. There’s no sense of joy or even real accomplishment–it’s just a death march.
But the process of turning things around starts with a decision to be more compassionate toward myself and more forgiving of my shortcomings. I’m not perfect, and this project or task will not be done perfectly. That’s OK–in fact, that’s actually a good thing–because by letting go of perfection I’ll get it done and move on, I’ll be more productive in the fullest sense of the word, and I’ll be happier.
And the thing that I think we (or at least I) lose sight of in this quest for perfection is how exquisitely beautiful imperfection is. Literature is not comprised of perfect people living their lives perfectly. What a bore that would be. All of the vitality and the intrigue is in the cracks, the fissures, the places where we’re just coming undone at the seams.
Performing well has at times become a kind of liability for me: I get so invested in the positive reinforcement from those around me who count on me to do things “right” that I miss out on the messy, authentic moments of truth or grace.
I am now remembering something that Galway Kinnell, a magnificent poet who was also my thesis advisor, said to me about my poetry when I was 25: “Your poetry would be much better if you were less good at so many things.”
I never knew what the hell he was talking about. Until this moment.
What a line from Kinnell. Insights like that are like seeds that require just the right conditions to sprout–and it took a few years, but they’re finally here 😉
There’s also something important in connecting perfectionism with a need for positive reinforcement from others, which can turn everything we do into an inauthentic performance. Instead of simply being ourselves, we’re constantly looking over our shoulder at our (real or imagined) audience: How’m I doing? Is this OK? No? How about this?
And the ability to stop seeking approval like that is another type of wisdom that usually takes time to develop.
Ed
There’s also something important in connecting perfectionism with a need for positive reinforcement from others, which can turn everything we do into an inauthentic performance.