IMPERFECT IMPERFECTIONIST

"Better a diamond with a flaw than a pebble without." ~Confucius.

"I remind myself, 'Don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good.' (Cribbed from Voltaire.) A twenty-minute walk that I do is better than the four-mile run that I don't do. The imperfect book that gets published is better than the perfect book that never leaves my computer. The dinner party of take-out Chinese food is better than the elegant dinner that I never host." ~Gretchen Rubin (author of The Happiness Project, as quoted in Daring Greatly by Brene Brown.

Likewise, the three Sun Salutations you practice on the living room floor are better than the Vigorous Flow class you never attend. The wobbly Half Moon pose you topple out of is better than the one you never attempt. The silent tears you wipe away during Savasana are better than the repressed discomfort you never admit.

We spend entirely too much time waiting to be perfect before living our lives. We want to already be good at something before we even try it; especially before we let someone else watch us try it! We can't even enjoy the moments in front of us because we spend the whole time thinking of ways in which they could be or should be better than they are. And the yoga mat, which should be a perfectionism-free sanctuary, is riddled with self-imposed criticisms and inadequacies -- I still can't touch my toes. I never stay balanced in Half Moon pose. If my arms were longer, I know I could bind them. I can't keep up during Surya Namaskar. My mind never seems to be quiet during Savasana. And on. And on.

Who cares?! Compared with what? with whom? Your neighbor on the next mat? The YouTube video you watched before class? Your imagined ideals of a Real Yogi? Who sets this standard of finally-good-enough that you are convinced you'll never attain?

Good Enough does not mean that you don't set goals or hold yourself accountable or value excellence. It doesn't mean that you stop working on self-improvement and self-awareness. It doesn't mean that you stop seeking trusted advice and guidance and constructive-criticisms. Good Enough is contentment (Santosha in Sanskrit). Good Enough is embodied self-compassion. It means you can be fully and humbly present in the reality of the moment as it unfolds without losing your joy in thoughts of ways to make it better. It doesn't need to be better. You don't need to be better. You are good enough. Your practice is good enough. Your efforts on the mat and off the mat are good enough.

I'm speaking to myself here just as much as to whoever is reading. Part of my attraction to yoga was that I realized it was a solitary effort whose achievements and developments were largely dependent upon my own determination and will-power. If I am in charge of when, where, and how I practice, then I am in charge of the experiences I have. If I work really hard, then it's just a matter of time (and effort) before I've mastered it all, right?! That first part is true -- I am (mostly) in charge of when, where, and how I practice. But, while those things may be correlated with the experiences I have, they do not necessarily imply causation. And even if they did, it still wouldn't negate the quality and validity of my efforts.

I always have an on-going short-list of goals for myself related to my practice. Much of it regards asana I want to learn. But it also includes books I want to read, philosophies I want to study, subjects I want to teach, etc. Many many goals have come and gone -- some I proudly achieved and checked off the list, while others I (also proudly) relieved myself from for various reasons. One of my current asana-related goals is mastering Padangustha Dhanurasana. I've been working on it for about a year, and it both frustrates me and excites me (the way a good, healthy goal should). I am very close to comfortably holding the full form! But I still have some work to do. Just yesterday I rolled out my mat with the intention of building up through a series of big back-bends and inversions specifically related to the components of this pose. However, that's not what happened. I just never gained the energetic momentum and concentration necessary for that level of work, and instead I spent the time in long hip-opening and leg-stretching holds. A few years ago, that (the fact that I didn't follow through with my original intention; I didn't work explicitly on Padangustha Dhanurasana) would have sent me into an emotional and psychological tailspin! You wasted a perfectly good opportunity. Why didn't you try harder? You should have stayed longer. You'll never get there if you keep quitting like that. What would my teacher think? What would my students think? That's not good enough.

But, along with the poses to master and the books to read and the rest of it, one of my on-going goals is to give myself permission to be Good Enough. I didn't practice Padangustha Dhanurasana yesterday. I didn't even practice preparatory variations of it. In fact, I don't think I did a single back-bend the whole hour and a half I was on the mat! But I walked away content. It felt good. It was good. And a practice whose intentions change is better than no practice at all. It's also better than the forced, disingenuous practice whose intentions are too inflexible to be adjusted according to the reality of the present moment. I did far more good for myself and toward my goal by conforming my practice to fit my body in that moment than if I had stubbornly pressed on or refused to practice at all.

I am a Recovering Perfectionist. It shows up in all areas of my life, yoga included. Ironically, part of me wishes I could be perfect at being a Recovering Perfectionist! And that tells me that I still have work to do. I am constantly reminding myself to embrace being good enough. I say it to myself like a mantra -- Good Enough. Good Enough. Good Enough. And now (at least a lot of the time) I actually mean it when I say it. Yesterday's practice was good enough. Today's blog post is good enough. The work I'll do at my job tonight will be good enough.

Yoga is not about perfection. It's not even really about what you do or don't do. It's a long, hard lesson about understanding (and maybe/probably adjusting) how and why you do what you do. Instead of berating yourself over what you don't do, wholly love the things you actually do. Rather than fantasizing about ways to make it better, open your eyes and soak in the realness of right now. Being imperfect is better than being nothing.

Don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good.