If you feel in need of a good, healthy slap in the face, I recommend Andrew Solomon’s brilliant Far from the Tree, a page turner of a book about those among us who are born different — the deaf, dwarves, homosexuals, children of rape. It’s required reading for the 21st century, especially for people like me who whine when we fall short of (fill in the blank).
Solomon’s Tree gives those us blessed to be born in the middle of the bell curve a benchmark with which to measure our own silly self-preoccupations, among which I must say, perfectionism stands out as a colossal waste of energy.
Fortunately, thanks to Brene Brown, population explosion, social media and the first amendment, perfectionism has fallen out of favor. Witness the snarky comments about the talented, drop-dead gorgeous Anne Hathaway. We don’t like to be shown up.
So, quick, while perfection is not trending, let’s try to figure out how to put all the energy we spend worrying about future outcomes into actually trying to make both ourselves and the future better. Case in point: public speaking has never been easy for me. I can suffer insomnia, panic attacks and temporary amnesia prior to giving a talk. Wouldn’t it make more sense to put that effort into preparing? Wouldn’t it be logical to just talk about what I care about rather than trying to sound like I have it all together?
Ever listen to “From the Top,” the radio show about young musicians? These kids spend four and five hours a day practicing their art and seem to thrive on the process. They’re focused, fun and innovative. They don’t whine. I hope they’re the future. Out with suffering artists and tortured, overly competitive achievers!
On a community level, here in Austin, which has always been a high-volunteer/low donation city, “I Live Here, I Give Here” program sponsored Amplify Austin, a day-long donation marathon, sort of like “1,000 Points of Light” meets Kickstarter. The result? $3 million for non-profits. What an improvement over whining!
The point is that making things (and oneself) better takes a lot of work, but not necessarily self-torture. Even moving forward is hard. But consider the alternative.
The other thought is — and this is a separate post — there’s a trick to weaving a story — about oneself, a client or colleague — that makes the process a lot easier — and more fun. It worked for Jane Austen (who doesn’t want to be Elizabeth Bennet?) and Scheherazade. Why not us?
So, let it go. Take a minute and do a little jig. Recite “The Owl and the Pussycat.” Go make something better.