Musings on Perfection

As a child I sought long and hard to find the exact right way to do things:  the perfect way, the only way, a way to ensure that I would be safe, that life would be perfect.  I killed myself trying to remember everything I had ever learned so that I did not have to look foolish.  I rehearsed phone dialogs in my head and then chose not to call anyway - even if I didn't have to identify myself.  I would not enter conversations even if I thought I had something to add because I could never be sure enough of the information I thought I knew.  I could not stand to be wrong.

To be wrong was to be ignorant, uncooth, unlikeable and imperfect.  To be wrong was to open oneself up to the opinions and judgements of others:  to be insecure, to be vulnerable.  I simply was too soft, too unsure of myself and my value to allow for others to challenge it.  So I stopped being.  I would not speak to others outside of my family and possibly one or two close friends.  I did not offer opinions or answers in school.  I did not engage with others in outside activities.  I hid in my head and tried to remain unseen by the world.  I did not look people in the face.  I tried not to know their names for if I didn't acknowledge them, they wouldn't acknowledge me.

For years I perfected my ability to think and remember.  To come up with retorts and witty conversation, but to keep them to myself.  I went through grade school and middle school and high school and college, trapped in my own mind and at the mercy of the outside world.  Those few with whom I felt safe and comfortable got the full brunt of my need to be heard and understood and acknowledged, suffering through day long conversations, arguments and diatribes.

Upon graduation and the need to find a job, I fell into a situation where I was forced to interact, to speak, to be.  So I watched and I learned and I analyzed the right way to do my job.  I memorized every client, every voice, every job we had ever done.  I knew where everything was, how everything worked and which of the other personnel to keep away from.  I was liked, respected, and driving myself crazy with the burden of it all.

Finally, after years of flogging myself to be perfect, the breakdown of my defenses began.  I felt I could offer my own suggestions, have my own opinions and stop being disingenuous with those around me.  I was no longer a yes man.  I had knowledge and value in my own right.  No one criticized my notions.  People enjoyed the discourse.  I still had value, but as myself, not as a tool for someone else.  And something inside told me this was right.

It is right to be real, to be alive and have meaningful interactions with others.  It is right to have integrity and follow your own moral code.  It is right to be yourself to the utmost exact.  And in this you can attain perfection.