sneak thief
I am not sure I remember where I heard the idea (fact) that perfectionism is a form of self-harm, but I can say with certainty that it is something I cannot un-hear.
Perfectionism is forever in bed with imposter syndrome. Imposter syndrome snuggles up to unrealistic expectations, which whispers sweet nothings to self-doubt, who plays footsie with the freeze response, and they all smother joy, creativity, spontaneity, silliness, and growth.
I watched that new Jonah Hill film, Stutz. One thing that stood out to me above all else was when Stutz shared this: “Do you want to be right, or do you want to create something?”
Fffffuuuuuuuuccccck!!!
I don’t want to be right, per say. I don’t really care if I am right, BUT, I do care if I am wrong…some of the time. This is a pickle.
A true pickle. (And now I want a pickle)
I mean, the obvious answer is that I want to create something. Many things. All the things that my amazing heart-brain-body wants to create. Much more than I care to be wrong.
I think there have been many points in my life where my desire to not be wrong, (or even seen/vulnerable/flawed), was stronger and kept me in bondage- and not the fun kind.
I would have such a creative streak for months sometimes, even a whole year. Hell, for a clear visual, just take a look back at the dates of my blogposts here, or note that period where I was drawing on such a regular basis that I began to see everything in color first, before letters or ideas even.
Then, it fell off. Like a sneak thief in the night.
In order to create, one must do. You cannot create without action, so the key of course lies in some form of doing, some matter of consistency.
We can’t be right and create something. Sure, it might end up that way. But, we can’t enter into the creative process trying to be right.
There’s no secret handshake or code to enter, but the password may very well come in the form of a gloriously stupid fumble, followed by some pain, a bit of a cry, then a hearty laugh, and an audible sigh.
So snuff out that sneak thief and create on, my friends. Keep ‘em coming. I see and feel you.
