The parental figures fed it into your daily teen diet. You’ve heard it from teacher’s, preacher’s, best friends and pocket protector ink pen loving computer geeks that took the time to show you Geometry, “Don’t sweat the small stuff.”
Yeah right…
Maybe it’s because I’m a Cancer, artist, creative type A, B, G and whatever other letter scientists are developing but everything I come in contact with, think of doing, dream of making a reality or invite into the universe is always going to be much larger than what other’s describe as being small.
No matter what’s taking place I’ll locate drama or create it.
Seriously! What is the small stuff?
Getting up at five in the morning requires unheard of amounts of preparation. I program myself to wake up at 2:30 knowing by five I can physically locate the bathroom shower without tripping over rubber dog bones, socks the dogs pulled out of the dirty clothes hamper, squeaky toys or a bird that might have figured out how to escape their Love Shack during nap time; then dry off with a towel and not a fresh roll of toilet paper.
Three minutes with me in a large lonely room created for radio people designing commercials and instantly you’ll figure out, “Everything is important.”
During the 1980’s when Def Leppard, Duran Duran and Jon Bon Jovi were stuffing your ears with harmonic hair band rock vibes, my on-air journals and programming notes were blistered by the hands connected to my soul leaving messages behind that read, “You’re a fricken idiot! How will you ever make it to major market radio disconnecting from listeners? That last break was stupid! Don’t you dare look in the mirror; I’m not in the mood to deal with failure.”
Perfectionist…it’s when our imperfections tend to be anything but small.
Artist Way author Julia Cameron writes about perfectionists never being happy—not even when the project is finished. A perfectionist tires themselves out leading them to finally accepting whatever gets them by.
You cannot be a perfectionist and hold hands with inner peace at the same time. It’s rare to locate a moment of content because to a perfectionist that means it’s still not good enough. Now toss in a co-worker, friend or family member who doesn’t share the same work ethics; the weight of the world multiplies by twenty five.
It increases your level of anger because your heart and mind are easily convinced that being a hard working, dedicated performer deserves to be recognized and for some odd ball reason it’s always the talkative, elbow rubbing, two hour lunch brats that latch onto the trophy for employee of the month and year.
A perfectionist isn’t always a work-a-holic. How many people do you know that freak out when a new scratch is found on the car door or dashboard? If the magazines near the sofa aren’t perfectly stacked or a coaster isn’t used under that nice tall icy cold sweet ice tea, who pays the price?
Perfectionists are described as individuals that find discomfort in the way they look, behave or live their lives. Once you’ve become focused on imperfection, all that once was kind and gentle is gone sometimes forever.
The solution isn’t easy because it requires honesty. First you have to become aware of how you act and react during bouts of anger, sadness, disappoint, lack of self trust and hatred toward the self you’ve allowed to be displayed in public. Although you believe being a perfectionist is what turned your work into a quality performance rather than the typical get it done to get by way currently plaguing this country; your outwardly presence is no different than an open journal with juicy stuff written on the inside.
I began my process of better understanding this disease in martial arts where we are surrounded by floor to ceiling mirrors. I’ve yet to meet the student that doesn’t spend more time staring at themselves than physically perfecting the form. I understand! A master that compliments you feels far better than a raise from your boss or you’re parents suddenly saying, “I love you.” To reach that acceptance level you have to look great.
The day I took my eyes out of the mirror and onto the floor changed my world. It was no longer important to me to please my master but rather better understand the depressed self he created. By making a pact with my self, “Don’t sweat the small stuff…” the journey toward healing began. The first thing that had to go…the multitude of colored belts a martial artist collects. They served as reminders of how much energy was dumped into trying to be a perfectionist.
The first time you appear in class with no belt, instantly you’re nobody. There was nothing more gratifying than leaving my ego at the door. I didn’t quit martial arts I was forced out by a cardiologist that put focus on my future, “Kicks and punches are fine and it will keep you centered but it’s doing nothing for your heart. If you want to get back to living, you need endless amounts of cardio from running, riding, pulling and pushing at a level that doesn’t allow you to take a break in the action to learn a new escape or form. If you want off the drugs then give me what I want…a strong heart.”
Try telling that to a perfectionist. The first thing that had to go was judgment. The moment you eliminate judgment from the project, you’re one step closer to locating inner peace and solitude. Slowly you’ll begin to decrease your passion to want everything perfect.
If everything created between the clouds and biggest oceans was meant to be perfect how do you explain the giraffe?
Why am I a perfectionist? I’m convinced our generation sucks at being great. I honestly can’t look my parents in the eyes and ask, “How was that?” I won’t be able to handle their reply.
Success is incredible when you take the time to enjoy it. Let me know what it feels like… Is it bigger than the Grand Canyon, taller than the Tetons in Wyoming, much wider than the butt I carry? Can I say that? A true perfectionist would erase it from the records…
We’re growing together…I will always believe in you first.
arroecollins@clearchannel.com
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