Journal: #281 The Perfect Enemy
I don’t regret my career in the food business, but I do wish I ended it before last summer. Currently, I feel like an amateur in life as I try to learn new skills in marketing, making art, and investments. In the food world, I am in the top 5% of people world-wide when it comes to knowledge and experience. My areas of expertise* include food science, the anthropology of cuisine, and flavor theory. In the world of marketing I am entry-level (at best). Art? Same. Investments? I’m more aware of what I don’t know, and it’s tons.
In addition to my general feeling of inadequacy, this week also reminded me how young I am in the Lord. I was so totally engrossed in my short-comings and failures, I stopped living out of a place of gratitude and trust. And once my head is lowered, the enemy sent in the big guns: self-pity and judgement. I hate feeling sorry for myself. It’s immature and shameful. Fortunately, God is good, and prayer works. I’m thankful I established healthy habits- praying, hiking, writing- last year, because they are paying dividends this week.
The word I continue to hear in my thoughts is perfection. It’s a word I hate, like genuinely hate. It’s the excuse of the immature and afraid. The pursuit of it, of perfection, has robbed me of life and relationships. And lately, it’s made a bit of a comeback in my life. Last summer I didn’t give a rat’s ass about being perfect, but the last month, I have. I see it in my lack of social media posts or subject matter for this blog. And, it’s most obvious in my lack of artistic endeavors. \
Perfection is a prison, a self-imposed prison. It’s corrupts the creative gene, ruins relationships, and locks us into patterns of mediocre bullshit. It’s a sad irony, how most of us wait for a more perfect opportunity only to spend our lives waiting. This is the goal of perfection, to hold its victims in a state of anxious inertia. I can’t imagine a more satisfying outcome than to torture a victim without lifting a finger? Tis the life of perfectionist devil.
My truth is I’m glad I’m facing my issues. I’m not months or years down the road, trying to perfect myself in the corner. I know I’m learning and pushing my boundaries. There’s no need to run from my issues or failures, because they will be a part of my life as long as I’m alive. I will make bad trades and forget what the Lord taught me. Yes, I’m embarrassed when I feel like a whinny asshole. However, I’m not stuck there. I can and do move on. Again, this is what progress looks like. Thank God.
(*I called myself an expert, and I use this term in a comparative sense. I know more about food than most people, but not more than top chefs, academics, or dedicated cooks.)
