Aspirations of Sanity
Monday was a 13-hour workday and I rushed through it headlong, with only a brief break to eat dinner. That is not a brag. It’s an illustration of insanity. I do not work in the emergency department of a hospital, nor am I a neurosurgeon.
Tuesday would be another marathon workday and although I got seven hours of sleep Monday night, the next morning I was not feeling energized or refreshed.
I thought, Maybe I should try something different. So I reached into the bag of slogans borrowed from the perennial wisdom of 12 step recovery programs. You’ve probably heard them before-- phrases like “One Day at a Time” and “Easy Does It.” When I am feeling stressed or lost, I grab hold of a slogan and repeat it like a mantra throughout the day. Slogans are a simple and effective way of shifting my focus, and therefore my experience.
The slogan I adopted for Tuesday was First Things First. Ever glance at the clock and realize it’s 3pm and you haven’t eaten anything all day since that banana on your drive to the office? That’s me as I near a deadline. Not this time, I vowed. This time I would take the time for important things, like feeding myself.
First things first. So on Tuesday, instead of jumping into my work right away I made a cup of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal with nuts and fresh apple. I read something that inspired me while I ate. Next I meditated for ten minutes. Then I sat down to work.
It was a productive day. I fought the urge to keep going as dinner time neared. Instead, I closed my laptop and went on a walk with my dog. I was so proud of myself.
I woke up the next morning with apparent amnesia. I got to the office and started working right away. An hour later I made a cup of coffee. The rest of the day was a blur. So was the next day. And I worked right up to the last minute, but I met the deadline.
I succeeded, but I’d failed. So much for First Things First. Luckily, another slogan was there to console me: Progress Not Perfection. I could forgive myself for not being as strong or as smart as I wanted to be. And while I fell short in many ways, I also did better than I might have. A few months ago, I spent the week leading up to a deadline working right up to and even past my bedtime. This time, I did not give into that temptation. And sticking to my sleep schedule kept my mood up and was probably the reason I chose not to beat myself up too much, just a little.
Progress, not perfection.
What imperfection can you forgive yourself for today?
This is up my alley!
I know something about that kind of amnesia--spiritual amnesia. My spiritual advisor has actually said that I seem to have a built-in forgetter. Fast-forgetter.
Speaking of perfectionism. There are three socially-sanctioned ways people use to abandon themselves: perfectionism, workaholism, and people-pleasing. Then I learned that perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor. You know, my inner critical parent's voice: "Good, better, best; never let it rest; Until your good is better, and your better, best." Then I learned how to counter that voice by summoning my loving inner parent's voice, reminding me that "A mistake a day, keeps perfectionism at bay." You know, the kinder self-talk.
So, to answer your question: I can easily forgive myself today for not completing a writing assignment that my editor gave me ...on the surface, it sounded simple, and it is; but I came to find out that it is not easy. So I let it percolate while I checked my email and saw your lovely piece and decided that it is more fun to comment on your piece than rack my brains on how to "write a paragraph or two on your first impression of Paris." Tomorrow is another day.
Addendum to my earlier comment:
While I can't ever attain perfection, I always have an asymptote toward which I am ceaselessly striving.