Perfectionism

As a typical "SHE" (Sidetracked Home Executive), I began this blog in a whirlwind of inspiration and excitement. I whipped out an introductory post in about ten minutes, April jumped in with her hilarious (and so familiar) sleeping-in time line, and I had plenty of ideas for new posts. But every time I thought about beginning a new post, something would stop me. I can't post another time line right after April's. I can't post about that -- it would sound cliché. I can't post about this, I'd overuse my fighting metaphor. It's not going to sound right. I don't have time to make this perfect. And so I post nothing.

As FlyLady is fond of pointing out, it is often perfectionism that causes people to procrastinate or to do nothing at all. Our sinks contain dirty dishes because we think we don't have time to do them all. We couldn't possibly do just a few when we have time -- or as we use them. Our floors have "crusties" on them because we don't have time to sweep the whole house (or clean the whole house, because we have to do this housecleaning thing right). It doesn't occur to us to sweep one room's floor or simply under the table after a meal. Our kid's doctor appointments (let's forget our own) go unscheduled, our walls unpainted, and our blogs unposted because we haven't found the perfect time, the perfect color, the perfect words.

For most things, we just need to start somewhere. "Starting is the hardest part," everyone tells us. But when all we see as we look at a project, or even what should be a simple task, is the whole (magazine-perfect) picture, then how do we begin? What if we truly cannot find a starting point? What if we do not even realize that beginning means "finding a starting point," which involves being able to break down a task into smaller pieces?

Everything we do can be broken down into manageable tasks. Everything. And especially the things we think we cannot do. It is easier to do this with some things than with others, but the principle still applies. If I want to write a blog post, some days the inspiration will fall from heaven (those are the fun days), but other days, I just have to start writing. If want I write doesn't work, I don't have to post it. I can throw it away. If I want to paint my bedroom, I have to make some decisions, do some window shopping or pick a theme or pattern I would like to emphasize in that room. If I don't like the color, I can paint over it.

Or is something else stopping me? Am I failing to begin because I don't want to (or don't know how to) do the work myself? Can I find someone to show me or do it for me? Am I avoiding my broom because it is shaped like a paintbrush instead of having a flat end that actually moves the dirt into the dustpan? (Ask my mother and mother-in-law about their opinion of my old broom.) Obviously, I need to replace my tool for this job.

It takes practice to analyze our actions and thoughts and to discern our reasons for them. FlyLady has helped me to learn to do this, but it took me a long time to be good at it. The constant inner-monologue argument can be exhausting, but it is worth it if we come out better people with more dishes done, more rooms decorated, more blog posts written.