Perfect vs. Better

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I have been putting shoes on my toddler all week that are too small.

He has red scabs on his heels and little blood stains on the back of his shoes that I didn’t see.

Naturally, I feel horrible.

So when I read over and over again about how we are too obsessed with perfection, how learning that one can’t be perfect is a big insight, I am a little bit like, who are these people? Who is under the impression that they could be perfect? I am presented with my blatant failure on the daily and I sort of want to know – who isn’t?

I recently read an expert of Mindy Kailing’s new book that I loved. Because it hinted at this dilemma around the ideas of perfection and confidence. She says that confidence really only comes from hard work. So when people encourage others to know that they don’t need to be perfect to be comfortable with themselves, I think, no they don’t. But they will definitely be more comfortable with themselves if they are getting better. On some level. Even if it is just bowling.

On most days, I have plenty of reasons to embrace imperfection, but I am always in search of reasons to embrace discipline, to keep all kinds of atrophy at bay. And all this talk about not being perfect seems like it confuses perfectionism with improving. I am writing all this not because I want to discourage people who are helped by being reminded that perfection is not the goal. I get that being comfortable with your self, loving your self, right where you are, is behind it. It is just that it doesn’t help me at all.  I am well aware of this fact. I respect my learning curve. But the reality of life as a mother, daughter, sister, wife is messy and bumpy. I need to be strong to deal with it all, and that means striving. That space where what your doing hurts a little, pushes you out of your comfort zone, and challenges you – that’s where my muscles grow. That’s what helps me deal with all the imperfections of life. Along with coffee.

Growing is often hard work. And sometimes, I will cave from doing this hard work when I hear messages like, ‘life is hard, don’t expect too much from yourself, here, have a donut.’ I need to hear messages like, ‘just do it’ and ‘no’.  Because I am the strongest version of myself with discipline.  I am inspired by the stories of people who weren’t trying for perfection. But they were trying for their best.

It might just be how I am wired. And on the off chance that someone is wired this way too, I am writing this for you.

I find peace in the place where effort meets reality. I like hard work, especially the kind that changes you as you do it. When I am running and I am conditioning my lungs, it sucks right then but it will make my next run better. When I clean and stock the fridge even though I really, really want to be lying on the couch eating fudge and reading a novel, I am setting up feeding my family healthy food. It is not fun. It is not pretty and I am not trying to be perfect. It is hard work. And that’s fine with me. Because it will make tomorrow better. Not perfect, just better.