
The Perfectionism-Procrastination Connection
Here is an excellent lesson that I haven't quite learned.
I'm absolutely a perfectionist. Anything I do, from brushing my teeth, to recording music, to blogging, has to be perfect. If I can't dedicate the time to make it perfect, I put off doing it.
Hence, my perfectionism feeds procrastination. My mind just doesn't want to accept that I'm not perfect.
Unfortunately, as a human being, that's exactly what I am--imperfect--or, more precisely--perfectly imperfect. In order for me to accomplish anything, I just have to do it and accept that it's not going to be perfect. For this I often use a maxim I heard a few years ago, "If it's worth doing, it's worth doing imperfectly".
Mindfulness and Dishes
So, I haven't put anything on this blog in about a year. That's pretty typical. I think I have to have something profound to say. And it certainly seems better to share important things, compared to just trivial day to day thoughts.
In actuality, though, it's the little things throughout the day and in life that bring the most rewards. It's not if I performed a procedure perfectly, but if I took the time to play with my kids and read to them.
Or even doing the dishes--I've found that everyday tasks that I used to consider mundane can actually be freeing if I approach them from a mindfulness perspective.
I've found another exercise that helps me with this problem of procrastination--practicing mindfulness during mundane tasks.
Part of it is the ritual, and being present for it mentally. Rather than rushing through the dishes, thinking about what I'm going to do next, I've started using as an opportunity for mindfulness. Now I focus on the physical and sensory experience of doing the dishes. Sounds very unglamorous, but when I pay attention to how the running water sounds, how the scrubber feels in my hand scrubbing the dishes.
At the end of the task, I am rewarded by the sight of a clean sink, which also underscores some important principals. First, the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step and, second, slow and steady wins the race. By focusing on one object at a time, I am participating in action, but also being a part of it in the present.
This makes the otherwise boring and slow process and turns it into progress. My steady effort brings my reality from a dirty sink filled with soiled dishes to a clean sink, dishes done. I can actually see my actions brings order to chaos. I can use this example in other, more complex or intangible tasks in my life--like dealing with emotional baggage or a big project at work.
A real herculean fight against entropy, I know. Perhaps next I'll just tackle the garage.
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