Still Pondering Perfectionism

geralt via Pixabay

Last week, as I was listening to one of the 17 books (not a made-up number -- I counted) I'm currently dabbling in on Audible, it hit me that something I thought I had under control was, in fact, a contributor to the grumpiness I'd been unable to shake of late. The culprit?

Perfectionism.

I've long categorized myself as a recovering perfectionist, so I'm well-informed on the topic. I even teach about it and write about it, regularly reminding myself in the process of the traps I want to avoid. And, I'm pretty successful in avoiding them most of the time, or at least catching myself before I'm down the rabbit hole.

Imagine my surprise when I realized I'd taken up residence there.

I've long believed that I hold only myself to excessively high standards but, in the too-close-for-comfort scenario that has been the last year of everybody-work-from-home, nobody-has-a-regular-schedule, why-can't-I-get-any-quiet living, I've become increasingly annoyed by the breaking of rules I didn't even know I had. A byproduct of this has been snapping at people for things that really aren't snap-worthy. This happens partly because they're not doing it right (imagine that) and partly because I'm unhappy that I'm not living up to my own unrealistic standards, leading that frustration to boil over onto other people.

Just me?

This isn't new. I've caught myself in the act before, and there wasn't even a pandemic to blame. But the fact that we're all in such close quarters magnifies the harshness of my reactions, and the absence of time to myself to chill and reset leaves me wallowing in my own self-loathing when I realize there was definitely a nicer way to say what I just said.

Do I have a right to be annoyed? Sure. Do I have to be nice all the time? Of course not. (There's that perfectionistic all-or-nothing thinking!) But my current response style isn't making me any happier than it's making anyone else, and so it's time for a change.

Ironically, it was writing last Monday's post that put me on the path to discovering the culprit and working all of this out -- writing's funny that way. Figuring out that perfectionism was burying me in the rabbit hole led me to scroll right past the books I'd been listening to on Audible and settle instead on The Pursuit of Perfect for a little problem-solving.

It's been almost a week, and I'm feeling much better. Relaxing my standards for me and those around me, combined with simply focusing on being kind has made a big difference.

Sometimes, good enough really is. Recognizing this can lead us to take the things that matter -- including our relationships -- closer to perfection. 

Friday Feature: Sometimes, Good Enough is Good Enough

This week, I've been perusing materials for the first year seminar I'll begin teaching in a few weeks. I've already taught the course several times, but I'm always on the lookout for updated materials to keep things interesting and current.

Ironically, it wasn't until I typed that last paragraph that I realized I'm doing exactly what today's article is about -- straddling that line between good enough and perfect.

What I started to say is that perfectionism is a topic I cover, and one that causes me to re-assess my own tendencies every time I teach it.

Like when the materials I already have aren't good enough and I go on a quest for newer, better information.

In life, there's always room for improvement, but it's also easy for us to exhaust ourselves trying to make everything perfect -- which is when it comes in handy to consider when we should aim for good enough rather than perfect.

While I'm reluctant to accept good enough most of the time, there's still wiggle room between good enough and perfect. In the case of my new materials, chunking my time so that I don't fall down the hyperlink rabbit hole helps; so, too, does figuring out what I'm looking to replace ahead of time. And, as Greene-Zapier points out in her article, sometimes, good enough is step one -- like the first draft of a blog post, manuscript or novel. Other times, our imperfection gives others permission to be imperfect, too.

So, why should we settle? Well, mostly because perfect is out of reach for we mere mortals but also because sometimes, good enough really is good enough.

Friday Feature: Productivity Perfectionism, Part 2

Monday's post about productivity perfectionism inspired me to do a little reading. Although I was well aware of the connection between perfectionism and procrastination, I wanted to see what was out there about perfectionism and productivity.

Quite a bit, as it turns out.

After scanning several pieces, I landed on this piece on the downsides of perfectionism from KNote, a new source for me.

And, just as I suspected, productivity is a tad overrated and sometimes, good enough is good enough.

Enthusiastic Perfectionism

Pixabay

Last Sunday night, as I was cranky because I took the "day of rest" very seriously and did more napping than schoolwork, my husband told me that he thought perhaps the goals I'd set for myself were too high.

Hmm.

The timing of this conversation was interesting. I'd just finished teaching a unit on time management and goal-setting with my freshmen, and was about to launch into our discussions on perfectionism.

Perfectionism is a funny thing, and it's very good at hiding. If you took a look at my house, you'd never believe I could be afflicted with it. And, generally speaking, I don't expect it from other people. But more and more, when things don't go according to plan, or, more accurately, I don't accomplish what I set out to accomplish, that ugly p-word makes an appearance. I become disheartened. Grouchy. Defeated.

Tons of fun to be around.

This type of all-or-nothing thinking is a hallmark of perfectionism -- and not the good kind of Hallmark, with cheery verses and flowery covers either. Instead, it's the kind of thinking that leads us to dismiss our accomplishments as trivial, even when they're anything but.

Being aware of this counterproductive mindset isn't enough, and often, it takes observations from others to nudge us toward doing something about it. Next week, as I simultaneously free my freshmen from the pressure to be perfect in my class and beat myself up when I don't finish grading their papers in the (possibly unrealistic) time frame I've assigned myself, I need to step back with my husband's observation in mind. I need to ask myself whether my enthusiasm for what I'm doing has overwhelmed my realism.

Pixabay

And yes, enthusiasm can put us on the path to perfectionism. New ideas and new discoveries lead to new possibilities that collide with realities like calendars and time constraints and the need to do things like sleep, eat and live in a semi-clean environment. Suddenly, that thing we were previously doing seems hugely inferior and, rushing in to change things -- to perfect them, if you will -- we skip the process and, instead, race toward the result. Painting the dining room in a rush of weekend energy. Cooking a gourmet meal when we're really more about takeout. Laboring away at a project until it's just right, no matter how long it takes. Then, we feel frustrated when we arrive at the finish line and the result is sub-par.

Yikes.

But we can change the way we manage the race. Enthusiasm and conscientiousness are good things, and we can harness them with the use of one very simple word, a word that often gathers dust in the corners of the vocabularies of recovering perfectionists.

No.

No, I can't do that right now. No, it's not reasonable to let a part-time project become an all-consuming endeavor.

No. More is not always better.

Oh, but it's hard to say "no" guilt-free. We often need to cloak it in apologies and explanations and rationalizations.

Even when we're saying it to ourselves.

No. There simply aren't enough hours in the day.

Pixabay

And, yes. Conscientiousness is better than perfectionism. Something is better than nothing. Sleep is better than exhaustion. Balance is better than running full-tilt until we hit the wall and wonder why it hurts so much.

When I put it that way, it makes so much sense. Perhaps I should give it a try.

Won't you join me?

If your calendar is full, feel free to say no.

3 Kinds of Perfectionism

Photo: LinkedIn.com

When I retired, one of the things I set out to do was to take this blog more seriously. My first step in that direction was to establish a regular posting schedule, something I accomplished with a reasonable degree of success.

Until this fall.

This fall, I'm on campus every day, and teaching more classes than ever before, which is a good thing. I think.

One of the classes is brand new, and I'm building it from scratch as I go. I have a blueprint, but I also want the content to be responsive to my students' needs, and fortunately, it's the kind of class that lends itself to that sort of thing. I'm having fun, but my discretionary time is disappearing fast.

Oh, and I'm trying to finish the final edits on a novel that I want to get out next month.

For some reason, I deluded myself into thinking this would not affect my posting schedule.

So far, in typical perfectionistic style, my strategy has been to run myself ragged, become horribly grouchy and beat myself up for posting later in the day. As you can probably imagine, that hasn't been terribly productive.

It wasn't until I set out to write today's post about perfectionism that I realized how ridiculous I was being. As it turns out, I was engaging in two of the three kinds of perfectionism described by Dr. Gordon Flett, who's done quite a bit of research on these things.

See for yourself:

• Self-oriented perfectionists are hard on themselves, expecting not only maximum effort from themselves, but also to hit the target every time. Down time and unreached goals are not an option.
• Other-oriented perfectionists impose unrealistic standards on other people. 
• Socially prescribed perfectionists feel the pressure to be perfect, but it's not self-imposed. Instead, they think that others expect them to be perfect, and they behave accordingly.

Just two weeks ago, I shared these with my students, encouraging them to focus not on perfectionism, but instead on conscientiousness. Once again, I'm lousy at taking my own advice, something I commiserated over with a barista-friend at Starbucks earlier this week.

But I digress. Which, in this case, is actually the point.

It's time to digress. To get off this path. To recognize that posting on Wednesday is posting on Wednesday, whether it's midnight or 11:59 PM. To realize that most of you don't care when I post, and to let those of you who do care know that life happens and I'm doing my best.

To admit...that I'm...not...perfect.

Yeah, I knew that already, and you probably did, too. So it's time to walk the walk.

Photo: Taliesin via Morguefile

So, here's the deal. I'm giving up both A and C above (the self-oriented and socially prescribed versions of this poison), and I have no intention of taking on B. I plan to show up here every Wednesday, though I can make no promises about what time that might be. I hope you'll still stop by and see what I have to say, perhaps a little later in the day than before, or maybe even later in the week. I'm not ready to give up my posts, and I hope you're not either. 

In any event, thanks for reading. And if you, like me, are plagued with A, B and/or C, maybe think about digressing a little yourself.

I hear it's good for your health.

Why Blog?

Photo: xandert via Morguefile

Last month, not long before my nine-year blogiversary, I attended Joel Friedlander and Joan Stewart's webinar, "How to Sell Books Using an Author Blog." Loaded with information, the webinar helped me generate a list of new directions to explore, as well as sparking ideas from a creative perspective.

But it also reminded me that it's not opportunities for promotion that have kept me typing out posts for nine years. Unlike a lot of writers who blog infrequently -- or not at all -- because they consider blogging a waste of good writing time, I find that creating and maintaining a blog benefits me as a writer in numerous ways. Here, in no particular order, are eight of them.

Blogging teaches self-discipline. There's very little that motivates a writer more than knowing someone is waiting to read his or her words. Creating a posting schedule and sticking to it keeps me writing regularly, even when life is busy and/or I don't feel like it.

Blogging teaches you to write efficiently. After nine years of blogging, I can hammer out a decent 750-word first draft of almost anything quickly and easily. Over time, sheer practice has made me a faster, better writer, not just with blog posts, but with drafts of chapters, articles and query letters as well.

Blogging chips away at perfectionism. When you know readers are expecting a post and the clock is ticking and you have other projects you want to work on, you learn to allocate a set amount of time to writing a post and to accept "good enough" as a standard. Posts should be error-free when it comes to basics like grammar and spelling, but when you're posting regularly, not every post has to be stellar. And if you decide you're disappointed with a post (or you find a typo after you've already put it out there), you can always go back and fix it.

Blogging helps you establish your voice both creatively and professionally. Posts are conversational and informal, which takes the pressure off, but at the same time, they're very, very public -- much like a book. Writing posts on a regular basis helps you find the line between sharing and oversharing and helps you put your thoughts into words that can be released for public consumption.

Blogging helps you connect with readers. Long before my novel released, I had "regular readers" thanks to my blog and social media. Sure, every blogger harbors the not-so-secret hope of being "discovered" by an editor or agent proffering a contract, but even if that never happens, you're still starting a conversation with an important audience: readers and book buyers.

Blogging improves your tech skills. If the mere mention of technology makes you cringe, you can begin with just the basics and expand from there. I started with a free template and for the first several years, posted text only. Over time, I've learned how to find free clip art and photos and integrate them (with credit!) into my posts, as well as adding gadgets and links and pages to my blog. Since it's your blog, you're in control of the learning curve. Not ready to venture to the next step? Take your time, and just keep posting.

turbosquid.com

Blogging is a plank in your platform. As writers, we're always looking for ways to get our work seen, and a blog can be the perfect way to do just that. In addition to providing online writing samples for those people we hope will discover us, we attract the attention of search engines when we post regularly. This means that if we query someone, they can find us online -- kind of like building a resume. And if we point friends, family and potential readers in the direction of our blog, they can become fans as well.

Blogging is fun. Sure, there are days that I struggle to put something on the page, but most of the time, I genuinely enjoy coming up with posts, and I love it when someone comments favorably on something I've written, or when a reader finds one of my posts helpful.

Looking back, I can't believe I've been at this for nine years. But, when I see how much my writing has improved, I know that the benefits of blogging go far beyond promotional opportunities. Someday, someone with clout may discover me, but until then, I'm happy just to be discovered by readers.

Just Do It!

Is it just me, or do you find the preparation process for a task you don't want to do exhausting?

It's kind of ridiculous, actually. If I just parked myself in the chair, or grabbed the dust cloth or sorted the papers or walked into the kitchen and started already, it would be so much easier.

Instead, I find multitudes of other things to do. Sometimes they're more interesting, sometimes they're truly mundane. Sometimes they're just there.

Or I make excuses. I'm too tired to fully concentrate. I don't really have enough time to do it well. I don't really have everything I need to do it the right way.

Is it just me, or does it smell like perfectionism in here?

Doing it fully, doing it well and doing it right should be good things, but instead, they're often obstacles to doing it at all. Not everything requires a preparation process, and inserting one by means of delays or excuses is often simple avoidance dressed up in evening clothes.

The irony is that the longer we "prepare" by avoiding, the farther away we get from doing it fully, doing it well or doing it right. We end up doing it in a hurry and disappointing ourselves with the outcome, but we've created built-in ego protection. No wonder it's not good. I did it in a hurry.

Ah yes. The stink of perfectionism.

Really, how much physical preparation does it take to start revisions? Dust the living room? Go through that stack of papers? Cook dinner?

Zip.

But the mental gymnastics are amazing. Olympics-worthy.

So yesterday, I decided to short-circuit them. The combination of annoyance with myself, frustration and pure guilt triple-teamed me and made me do what I know works - especially when I'm being triple-teamed.

I downsized, choosing one task from each of two competing categories (household and writing). And I wrote the designated tasks on my calendar. For today.

And I did them.

The funny thing is, getting started is the hard part - the hurdle I need to clear to get to the straightaway ahead. You'd think I'd remember from one time to the next that once I clear the hurdle, there's usually an unobstructed (if slightly rocky and hilly) path on the other side.

And I do remember. It's just that the hurdle is so high that I think I need to prepare to clear it, when really, all I need to do is lower the hurdle. Sit in the chair. Grab the dust cloth. Sort the papers. Walk into the kitchen.

Crumple up the perfectionism and toss it in the trash.

Now that's preparation.