I've been hearing a lot about self-mastery, faith, and choices lately. I've been going back to the General Conference Archive and listening to some great talks again. President Uchtdorf's talk entitled “Of Things That Matter Most” in particular stood out to me and brought relief.
Last year was a huge leap for me with regards to my novel. I accomplished more in six months than I had in years. I got the first book in the series almost completed. Then I took a break, had some great holidays, had a baby, and well... I think I finished up a few partial chapters back in April and wrote one new one in September. Other than that, I really haven't written all year, other than in my journal and for this blog and a few letters. I kept thinking when my daughter started Kindergarten, I would get back to it consistently. So it's been on my mind for about three months now and I just haven't gotten to it. I've been mostly at peace about it, but a feeling of discord has been rising in me and I've been getting worried that I will never find the time to return to it again.
But a woman at church today said that you have to give your problems to the Lord and then stop worrying. You can still ponder and pray about them, but you can stop worrying and live with faith that the matter is in the Lord's hands. I thought, “Yes, I need to live with faith that if the Lord wants me to write this book, he will prepare a way for me to do it.”
President Uchtdorf said, “When stress levels rise, when distress appears, when tragedy strikes, too often we attempt to keep up the same frantic pace or even accelerate, thinking somehow that the more rushed our pace, the better off we will be...It is said that any virtue when taken to an extreme can become a vice. Overscheduling our days would certainly qualify for this. There comes a point where milestones can become millstones and ambitions, albatrosses around our necks.”
What a blessing it was for me to hear this. I am so incredibly talented at overscheduling my life, it is frightening sometimes. It's always a relief to be reminded that I am allowed to be human.
The parenting CD's I've been listening to gave me another eye-opener when I learned about the things that “drive” children (and thus adults). One of them “Be perfect.” Another is “Be Strong.” Don't let life get you down. No matter what happens, we're supposed to bounce back, take it in stride, never miss a beat, keep on keepin' on, and just keep smiling. Sometimes we get sent this message that we shouldn't feel what we feel. That we need to just get over it and stop crying.
What I'm realizing is that if we want to have self-mastery and be able to make those right choices, to focus on the Things that Matter Most, then we have to know the self we are trying to master. We have to admit the truth. And the truth is weakness. But that's okay! We're human. No matter how hard I try, I'm not superhuman. I can't always get everything done. I can't always smile. I can't always succeed. It's okay to ask for some time alone.
Being perfect has been a big “driver” for me. Learning that it's okay to fail has been hard, but liberating. I'm learning to expect what is realistic. To forgive myself for not accomplishing, or rather to release the feeling that I need to forgive myself. I'm learning that even if I fail at being the perfect example for my children, I can apologize and move forward and try to do better and it won't actually ruin my kid in the process. Kids don't need to see us being perfect all the time. They need to see how we deal with being imperfect. Dealing with that requires reliance on the Savior. Admitting failure. Being weak. They need to see that it's okay to fail, to feel, to cry, to pray, to move on, to try again. When we let go of this facade of always trying to be perfect and strong for ourselves, our family, our friends, we can slow down and focus on the joy of what matters most: them.
Showing posts with label perfectionism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label perfectionism. Show all posts
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Strive Not for the Mastery, Forgive Yourself
I had a very humbling experience this week. I said something I should not have. I have done that lots of times. I've thought things about people that I shouldn't have. I've judged others and never said so out loud, but made them feel judged with my little comments and little actions here and there. I've always known I wasn't perfect. I have always said that out loud and believed it myself. But today, a part of the facade that is my self broke down a little further. A little more of my pride gave way to a little more humility.
I have this subconscious but desperate need to control as much as I can. Whether it's my scheduled life, my work, my children, my friends, my family, or the circumstances I find myself in, I like to feel like I'm in control. As long as I'm busying myself controlling other people and things (which takes a lot of energy since I can't actually do it), I don't have enough energy left for adequately meeting my own needs. So I have plenty of excuses when I am less than in control of myself.
Of course, I have only recently discovered this. It's quite enlightening to see yourself through a psychologist's eyes.
Today, I saw a nasty truth about myself: I am actually a pretty disrespectful person. All my efforts to become more Christlike and I still will do and say things that are just flat out disrespectful, inconsiderate, and selfish. I'm not sure why, but it does not come naturally to me to just enter into an interaction with a person and be completely considerate of their feelings the whole time. Like the Anatomy of Peace book says, I see too many people too often as objects rather than as real people with real needs and real feelings, just like me. Oh, I'm very good at acting the part, and even doing so out of a genuine desire to help you and do the Christlike charitable thing, but I'm not sure that all of my respectful actions don't have to be just a little bit forced. Maybe it's easier to understand if I say it this way: I do respectful things because I know I'm supposed to, not necessarily always because I deeply respect the people I'm talking to. Now if that's not opening up a vein on my blog, then I don't know what is! Yikes! I only bear my ugly soul to you when I think there might be someone out there whom it can actually help. Anyone? Anyone out there? Moving on...
I have this sort of tunnel vision when I am on a task, that I do not have time to stop long enough for niceties, I just need to get something done and I will blow by you in the process if I have to. I wonder why my daughter does certain things and I realize it's because I model it for her. Sigh.
Something sort of amazing happened today, though. When I admitted this to myself and the Lord, I was asking his forgiveness, and all these things I've been learning lately from James Jones started coming to me. About how I am a perfectionist because I have been trying to prove to myself and the world that I am okay. That I am not broken. He says that people try to focus on fixing everyone else because it is too painful for them to try to work on fixing themselves, because that would mean working through the pain of the past, or the pain of admitting failure. He says I have to forgive myself and realize that I am an okay person, even though I make mistakes. I have to somehow be okay with myself, even happy with myself, after years and years of meticulous self-criticism.
So all this was coming to me and for the first time since I heard his advice, I had a real life opportunity to apply it to my current situation. I was disrespectful of someone when I should have been compassionate. I felt guilty, but I decided I did not want to dwell on this all day. We had planned a special afternoon as a family at a farm with a pumpkin patch and I was determined not to let anything ruin the experience. So I spent an hour or so this morning in prayer, study and reflection to make sure my heart was at peace before we left. It took that long, and even longer as I began to write out my feelings. As I repented in prayer, I asked the Lord to take this seed of disrespect – no, this well grown vibrant chokeweed – and cast it out of my soul. I wept. I remembered many times when I was disrespectful – to my mother, to my sister, to my niece, to my daughter, to my husband, to perfect strangers when I cut in front of them to reach something I needed, or to friends when I can't even wait until they finish speaking before I say my part. It's like I've been walking around in my own little egocentric world, like an emotional five year old, where everything else revolves around me and I am blind to the needs of others!
I asked Him to remove this tendency from me, to help me to turn this weakness into a strength. Then I turned to James 3.
“My brethren, be not many masters.” (The footnote says teachers.)
Ok, so I should not be trying to give advice to everyone else and tell them what they should do. I should not be trying to school everyone about how they ought to live or perform. Control them. Another footnote gives a more clear translation: “Strive not for the mastery.”
This brought a new thought to me, and though it may not be what James intended, it spoke volumes to my heart. It was as though the Lord was saying to me: Tiffany, stop trying to be perfect. You are not. That is why I am here for you to help you. Stop trying to do it all on your own and partake of the Atoning sacrifice of the Savior. He will help you turn this weakness to strength, but you cannot be perfect now. Just accept that and forgive yourself.”
So I did.
I wept, and then I really forgave myself.
You don't realize how huge this is. Normally, I would dwell on this the entire day and let it completely ruin my experiences for days to come. I would have been melodramatic, needy and selfish, so consumed by my own drama that I would not have noticed the needs of others or at least I would have begrudged having to meet them. What bondage I would have placed myself in!
But I forgave myself. Doing so was perhaps the most liberating thing I've done … ever.
I wasn't just forgiving myself for this one infraction. This was the beginning of forgiving myself for not measuring up my entire life. This was the beginning of letting go of my workaholic and codependent tendencies. I had more energy today than I've had in years!
I will continue to pray for the Lord to purify me. For, there are those who I truly desire to help, because I love them deeply. I want to help them, though my efforts may come across as controlling and judgmental. I'm trying to change that.
More help comes from the beloved James, the brother of Jesus, when he wrote: “Who is a wise man and endued with knowledge among you? Let him shew out of a good conversation his works with meekness of wisdom. … The wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be intreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy. And the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace of them that make peace.” (James 3: 13, 17, 18).
May the Lord first make me pure, that I might be peaceable, full of mercy and good fruits, including the fruit of a deep respect for all people, “which are made after the similitude of God” (James 3:9).
I have this subconscious but desperate need to control as much as I can. Whether it's my scheduled life, my work, my children, my friends, my family, or the circumstances I find myself in, I like to feel like I'm in control. As long as I'm busying myself controlling other people and things (which takes a lot of energy since I can't actually do it), I don't have enough energy left for adequately meeting my own needs. So I have plenty of excuses when I am less than in control of myself.
Of course, I have only recently discovered this. It's quite enlightening to see yourself through a psychologist's eyes.
Today, I saw a nasty truth about myself: I am actually a pretty disrespectful person. All my efforts to become more Christlike and I still will do and say things that are just flat out disrespectful, inconsiderate, and selfish. I'm not sure why, but it does not come naturally to me to just enter into an interaction with a person and be completely considerate of their feelings the whole time. Like the Anatomy of Peace book says, I see too many people too often as objects rather than as real people with real needs and real feelings, just like me. Oh, I'm very good at acting the part, and even doing so out of a genuine desire to help you and do the Christlike charitable thing, but I'm not sure that all of my respectful actions don't have to be just a little bit forced. Maybe it's easier to understand if I say it this way: I do respectful things because I know I'm supposed to, not necessarily always because I deeply respect the people I'm talking to. Now if that's not opening up a vein on my blog, then I don't know what is! Yikes! I only bear my ugly soul to you when I think there might be someone out there whom it can actually help. Anyone? Anyone out there? Moving on...
I have this sort of tunnel vision when I am on a task, that I do not have time to stop long enough for niceties, I just need to get something done and I will blow by you in the process if I have to. I wonder why my daughter does certain things and I realize it's because I model it for her. Sigh.
Something sort of amazing happened today, though. When I admitted this to myself and the Lord, I was asking his forgiveness, and all these things I've been learning lately from James Jones started coming to me. About how I am a perfectionist because I have been trying to prove to myself and the world that I am okay. That I am not broken. He says that people try to focus on fixing everyone else because it is too painful for them to try to work on fixing themselves, because that would mean working through the pain of the past, or the pain of admitting failure. He says I have to forgive myself and realize that I am an okay person, even though I make mistakes. I have to somehow be okay with myself, even happy with myself, after years and years of meticulous self-criticism.
So all this was coming to me and for the first time since I heard his advice, I had a real life opportunity to apply it to my current situation. I was disrespectful of someone when I should have been compassionate. I felt guilty, but I decided I did not want to dwell on this all day. We had planned a special afternoon as a family at a farm with a pumpkin patch and I was determined not to let anything ruin the experience. So I spent an hour or so this morning in prayer, study and reflection to make sure my heart was at peace before we left. It took that long, and even longer as I began to write out my feelings. As I repented in prayer, I asked the Lord to take this seed of disrespect – no, this well grown vibrant chokeweed – and cast it out of my soul. I wept. I remembered many times when I was disrespectful – to my mother, to my sister, to my niece, to my daughter, to my husband, to perfect strangers when I cut in front of them to reach something I needed, or to friends when I can't even wait until they finish speaking before I say my part. It's like I've been walking around in my own little egocentric world, like an emotional five year old, where everything else revolves around me and I am blind to the needs of others!
I asked Him to remove this tendency from me, to help me to turn this weakness into a strength. Then I turned to James 3.
“My brethren, be not many masters.” (The footnote says teachers.)
Ok, so I should not be trying to give advice to everyone else and tell them what they should do. I should not be trying to school everyone about how they ought to live or perform. Control them. Another footnote gives a more clear translation: “Strive not for the mastery.”
This brought a new thought to me, and though it may not be what James intended, it spoke volumes to my heart. It was as though the Lord was saying to me: Tiffany, stop trying to be perfect. You are not. That is why I am here for you to help you. Stop trying to do it all on your own and partake of the Atoning sacrifice of the Savior. He will help you turn this weakness to strength, but you cannot be perfect now. Just accept that and forgive yourself.”
So I did.
I wept, and then I really forgave myself.
You don't realize how huge this is. Normally, I would dwell on this the entire day and let it completely ruin my experiences for days to come. I would have been melodramatic, needy and selfish, so consumed by my own drama that I would not have noticed the needs of others or at least I would have begrudged having to meet them. What bondage I would have placed myself in!
But I forgave myself. Doing so was perhaps the most liberating thing I've done … ever.
I wasn't just forgiving myself for this one infraction. This was the beginning of forgiving myself for not measuring up my entire life. This was the beginning of letting go of my workaholic and codependent tendencies. I had more energy today than I've had in years!
I will continue to pray for the Lord to purify me. For, there are those who I truly desire to help, because I love them deeply. I want to help them, though my efforts may come across as controlling and judgmental. I'm trying to change that.
More help comes from the beloved James, the brother of Jesus, when he wrote: “Who is a wise man and endued with knowledge among you? Let him shew out of a good conversation his works with meekness of wisdom. … The wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be intreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy. And the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace of them that make peace.” (James 3: 13, 17, 18).
May the Lord first make me pure, that I might be peaceable, full of mercy and good fruits, including the fruit of a deep respect for all people, “which are made after the similitude of God” (James 3:9).
Labels:
control,
forgiveness,
love,
perfectionism,
respect
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