Mindfulness Practice and the Perfectionist

Being a perfectionist and practicing mindfulness do not go hand in hand.  In fact, perfectionism has been a huge road block in my practice. The road to living mindfully is a journey; there is no end game.  Mindful eating can be practiced each day, at each meal, and with every bite – or not – because sometimes we forget.  For a perfectionist like me, that theory was not one that was easily practiced.  The same goes for mindful living; sometimes we practice and sometimes we forget.  When I began meditating, it took me a while to not get frustrated with myself when my stream of consciousness took me away from my breath.  I even used the word “stop” to bring myself back into the present.  I was not being a curious observer in my mindful eating or living practices; I was being a perfectionist.  I was bullying myself into following the “rules”  and mindful eating became another “diet” – another external set of rules to follow.

But the longer I practiced, the more I realized that being a perfectionist was not working for me.  I needed to forgive myself for not being an “expert” at eating intuitively, and observe my behaviors, learn from them, and make progress.  After all, practice makes progress, not perfect.  There is no “perfect” in life, so why should I expect myself to reach perfection when it came to eating, meditating, or everyday living?  I didn’t expect perfection in others, so why was I so tough on myself?  Then I heard one of my body-positive gurus say this:

“Perfection is an aspiration laced in self-loathing.”

Ugh!  Yes!  Why did it take me so long to know that statement is completely true??  It got me thinking… who decided what “perfect” was?  Who decided that I needed to have a flat stomach and thigh gap in order to be happy, or be comfortable in a bathing suit or a dress?  Who decided that I needed to have a clean house with beds made and kids who could read by age 4 and sleep through the night at 3 weeks?  There have been so many external cues directing my path that I lost the ability to hear myself think.  I couldn’t hear that voice inside me saying “I am enough.  My family and friends love me whether or not my thighs touch or my floor needs vacuuming.”  Letting perfectionism go was the only way to make progress.

I tell my children all the time that I don’t expect perfect grades, but I do expect for them to put forth their best effort in everything they do.  I would never blast them for getting a less-than-perfect grade, or call them names for missing the goal during a game or forgetting a line in the school play.  So why was it okay for me to do that to myself?  Where was the love?  Mindfulness practice was about to change that.

Fast forward time…with practice, I have become a curious observer.  I tend to look for the positive and learn from the not so positive.  Now, when I meditate, I replace “stop” to something that doesn’t berate me or judge my effort.  I have worked to accept my body for its strengths, and for what I once considered its weaknesses.  I stopped making my bed in the morning (I still make it before I go to bed because I like getting into a made bed, but I have more time in the evening, so that’s when it gets done.)  I have stopped striving for perfection, and in doing so, the self-loathing has dissipated.  I feel free.  Free from the external cues that tell me I need to diet or make my fat cry when I work out, or be the perfect mom.  I am content.  I have exhaled and it feels good.

Recently, I took a risk and walked one step further away from being a perfectionist…I tried an adult coloring page.  I know that sounds crazy, but for someone who expects perfection, the idea of coloring an intricate picture induced anxiety.  I was afraid that I would ruin it and wouldn’t make good color choices, or even worse, I would color outside the lines (gasp!).  I printed off two pages (just in case I wanted to start over, and discard the evidence of a coloring mistake – the perfectionist in me made me do it).  I put on spa music and sat down with a pack of markers.  I started coloring and I was really enjoyed it… and then it happened…

Oh boy! Someone call the coloring police!

I made the choice to embrace my “flaw” and continue coloring.  For some, this might seem silly, but think of it like this:  What if the coloring page was a bikini and the “flaw” was a dimpled thigh?  A choice needs to be made at that moment:  Remove all evidence of the bikini and stick with a cover up (or skip the beach altogether), or embrace the “flaw” and say f*ck it and enjoy the sunny day.  On this day, I decided to enjoy the process, “flaw” and all.  Does the “flaw” make me less loveable?  Does it make me a bad mom/wife/member of the community? No.  So coloring on I did…

I love it, “flaw” and all!

So my point is this:  In order to practice mindfulness, perfectionism needs to be kicked to the curb.  Embrace the messy and the perfectly imperfect, because sometimes you have to say f*ck it to break through the roadblock.

Journey on my friends!

xo

B

PS  Want to try coloring as a form of being present?  Check out these coloring books, or head over to my Mindful Eating & Living Pinterest board (and follow me while you’re there) for free pages that I pinned.

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