The Gifts of Imperfection

That's the title of the book I've just started reading by Brene Brown, which has come at the perfect time (no pun intended). Lately, I have been very aware of my imperfections - my shortcomings at work, my failures as a friend, my inability to keep my house clean.

I'm not usually a self-critical person, but I've been noticing even stupid things like my hair growing out and the zit on my forehead, and I feel this frustration building up inside of me - of not being who I want to be, of not measuring up; in short, not being perfect.

It's funny, because I don't expect anyone else in my life to be perfect - not my friends, not my family, not the people I work with - because I know that we as human beings are not perfect; that's part of the human condition. However, I inexplicably seem to hold myself up to a different standard - an impossibly high one.

Even though I, too, am merely human, I expect myself to never mess up, to never make mistakes, to be successful in every part of my life - to immerse myself in my work and not leave the office until everything is done and done right; to be present with my friends, checking in regularly, listening and being supportive through all of life's joys and sorrows; to keep up with my housecleaning, laundry and cooking so that my home is a neat and hospitable place.

These seem like pretty basic "life" things to be able to do, so on the face of it it does not seem like an impossible standard. Which is why I feel like a failure when there are not enough hours in the work-day to complete everything on my to-do list; when weeks go by without catching up with friends who are really important to me; when my dishes pile up, I'm scrounging around for clean clothes and can't figure out what to cook for dinner. What should be simple and easy at times feels impossibly hard to accomplish...and I wonder if I will ever "succeed" at this thing called life. 

It's hard for me to accept that I'm not perfect - that it's not a matter of trying harder, being more organized, pushing through. I'm not perfect, and it's ok. I am human, and I will make mistakes; I will fall short, I will not be "enough". Yet, I will not be defined by my successes or my failures.

I think there's this myth that we can "have it all" - excel in our career, have a robust social life, stay on top of everything at home - and perhaps some people can. But there are trade-offs - if I pour more time and energy into one area of my life, the other areas are going to suffer.

I can always tell when it's been an intense week at work, because I come home with little energy for seeing people, and instead hibernate - watching Netflix before passing out, after eating what may or may not be a nutritious dinner. My dishes pile up and the laundry goes unfolded.

Now don't get me wrong, I love what I do and I am so grateful to have found a job that aligns so well with my passions and allows me to use my skills towards the greater good. There's no place I'd rather be, and nothing else I'd rather be doing. But when those intense weeks become the norm, I realize that there is a cost.

I was talking about this with a friend of mine recently, saying that if I had a significant other or even a roommate, I would probably not work as much as I do - because that person would feel the impact. But since it's just me, I said that by working late I'm not giving up anything on the other end. But she reminded me that I am - that I'm giving up my "me" time, my ability to spend time with friends and to care for my home and myself.

So part of my imperfection is that my life has been lopsided - and I haven't realized what it's been costing me. This realization comes at a good time, though, just as work will be returning to a more normal pace. I won't have the same pressures that have been present the past number of months, and I am looking forward to hitting the "reset" button to find a better balance.

I'm looking forward to intentionally spending more time with friends, and nurturing the relationships with those closest to me. The people who ground me, who support me, who challenge me, who love me and who make me laugh - they are my life-blood, and it's no wonder I've felt anemic without them.

I'm looking forward to taking more time to care for my home - because I feel so much better when my space is clean and organized, and can be a welcoming place for others. I can't wait to bring some order to the chaos, and get back into better rhythms for keeping it that way.

The beauty of this is that it's not a zero-sum game - all of these different pieces of my life are interconnected, so if I spend more time with friends I will feel more inspired at work - and when I am inspired at work I will have more energy to spend time with friends (or clean my house)! Each should flow into one another, not sap energy from the rest.

So this is my intent - yet I don't want to set up, again, impossible standards for myself and then beat myself up when I fall short. So I will try to hold these intentions with open hands - to seek them without striving too hard. I will try to see each step forward as a gift - and each step back as a reminder of my own, imperfect humanity.

Being Present

Being present was one of those things that I didn't realize that I was missing until I found it again. I knew that I was hurried, busy, stressed and tired - which I tried to compensate for by turning on Netflix, scrolling through Facebook and trying to withdraw from the hurried pace of my life for a few hours at night before starting all over again the next day.

But binge-watching Netflix and mindlessly "liking" the never-ending news feed are not ways of being present - in fact, they're the exact opposite. In my attempt to disengage from that which was stressful, I went to the extreme of disengaging from that which was life-giving as well.

Without being present, it is impossible for me to know what it is I truly need - because I am not present even to myself. What I discovered, though, is that to truly be present to myself I must be present to those around me - those who love me, care for me and can remind me of what I need when I have forgotten.

This weekend came as a welcome reminder, as I got to spend time with many of those closest to me in celebrating my birthday. In the process, I received several gentle reminders - a "self-care package" from a thoughtful friend, and some pointed questions from another friend about how I was going to care for myself this week.

I was also finally able to be present at church this morning. Between blizzards, baptisms and staying in bed, it had been a full month since being at New Hope - and I felt a longing to return, to be present with these people and practice community together. From singing together and hearing a friend bring the sermon, to discussing budgetary challenges and catching up with people, community encompasses all of it - and I was so grateful to be back.

And I was reminded that being present to myself and being present to people go hand-in-hand. Spending time with close friends and church family brings me back to more of who I am. I cannot be my best and truest self by myself - it is in community, in sharing life with people, that I return to who I am and I continue to be molded into who I will be.

Part of being present is understanding how to simply BE. So many of my waking hours are focused on what I can DO - and what I must do, in order to accomplish the long list of tasks that greet me from my Outlook toolbar at the start of each work day. I produce, I accomplish, I direct, I lead - lots of action verbs keep me running throughout my days. So the temptation, then, when I finally get home is to convert to the passive - I consume, I veg, I lounge, I zonk out.

But isn't there something in between these two extremes - something to counterbalance the frantic, hectic pace of work and life, and the exhausted crash at the end of the day? I am reminded today that there is - it is simply BEING. In being present to myself, I can hear what it is that I really need - and allow that to direct how I spend my downtime.

This afternoon, I needed to sleep - so I took a 3-hour nap. My shoulders were in knots and my hip was sore, so I needed to do yoga. I needed to create an oasis before the week started - so I lit a scented candle, turned on some relaxing music and ate my dinner in contemplation. This contemplation led me to start writing this blog - so here I am.

Being present - to others and to myself - brings me back to my truest self, to the things that are most life-giving to me. Writing is one of those things - taking the time to connect the thoughts swirling around in my head in some coherent form so that I can share them.

I don't have it all figured out, but for today - for this moment - I am grateful for the people in my life who are present to me, and who remind me how to be present to myself.

Some of the contents of my "self-care package" - thank you, Megan! :)