Letting go of those perfectionist tendencies

For most of my life I’ve been intrigued by what makes us human beings tick, sometimes so beautifully, generously, courageously and effortlessly, other times operating with a noticeably lower bar. I have learned that we all do better when we’re gentle and understanding, accepting that less-than-perfectness in each other. Unfortunately, that’s easier said than done since perfectionism was passed on to me early in life, probably in utero, therein giving me the gift that keeps on giving: the mini-me critic who sits on my shoulder, observing and judging everything in sight, including myself.

I strive to walk the higher road, chanting the mantra perfect is the enemy of good, perfect is the enemy of good, perfect is the enemy of good, knowing if I say it enough times with just the right intonation, I’ll have it down perfectly.

If it weren’t so painful to see how difficult it is for us to change our ways, it can be pretty funny to watch, certainly more entertaining than most of the programs on TV these days. Well, except for those reports on the latest with the presidential candidates. Now there’s a prime example of people who have let go of perfectionism and maybe should have held on a little tighter. I mean, really, where do they come up with some of those people? How many unearned blue ribbons in grade school fueled that delusion that they would one day be qualified to lead our country?

There I go, judging again. In most situations, “good enough” probably is good enough although it has often been used with a pejorative slant: good enough for jazz, good enough for government work, good enough for the likes of you. It’s important to learn how to play well with others, sometimes a struggle for perfectionists. That may mean recognizing “good enough”, accepting those irritating and amusing foibles in ourselves and others, toning down the voice of the critic and holding back the unasked-for advice.

At the same time, I will argue for a higher standard of “good enough” in some arenas, such as the presidential lion pit and nominations for Speaker of the House. Let’s just say for starters that they should be able to walk and chew gum at the same time, comprehend what “for the common good” means, have a clue about what it’s like to live on less than $300,000 a year and maybe even understand that the president pledges to defend the constitution which actually is more than “just a piece of paper” as expressed by George W.

The House of Representatives has been presenting an amazing reality show, the D.C. version of Where’s Waldo, trying to find someone, anyone, who is willing to serve as Speaker of the House. While the chaos could be alarming to us as citizens or amusing to progressives, I would imagine it must be agonizingly embarrassing for anyone who calls himself or herself Republican.

Could there be a more exquisite irony than the possibility of Kevin McCarthy as “Speaker”? When he speaks it sounds like English is his 3rd or 4th language, being channeled through torturous translations from the original Aramaic through Urdu eventually into English. He’s just too easy a target, but here are a couple recent examples: “We don’t have the same as difficult decision, but this White House is managing the decline and putting us in tough decisions for the future.” “It defies belief that the President would allow the ban on Iranian oil exports to be lifted and also stand by a Russian blackmails an entire continent keeping the place of the band on America.” No, those aren’t typos; that’s actually how he speaks, in public, with a straight face in front of a microphone. But he did make the wise decision to step out of the Speaker race.

So that carries me right into the topic of language abuse. As much as I strive to embrace an attitude of Mother-Teresa-like loving acceptance for all living beings, I fall off the proverbial wagon into the cesspool of scathing judgment on hearing the English language mangled, underutilized and underappreciated. I cringe at the casual tossing about of those perfectly awesome, absolutely brilliant superlatives.

Decades ago I supervised a very mediocre student teacher who proclaimed everything as terrific: the day, her health, the lessons, lunch, all terrific, all the time. She was cute and bubbly with bouncing curls, unbelievably long eyelashes heavy with mascara and wouldn’t you know, her name was Susie. It just had to be. She had difficulty comprehending basic teaching principles, curriculum content, student behavior and classroom management. She had always dreamed of being a teacher but was immature, undereducated and unprepared to handle a classroom, especially at the first-grade level. After months of close supervision and providing every possible means of help, I had no choice but to fail her. But I didn’t kill her, not even after 120 days of hearing terrific multiple times a day interleaved with her excruciatingly poor performance. I let her down as gently as I possibly could and I did hold back from saying, “Honey, don’t you think you might want to save a few of those superlatives for when something really terrific happens?”

That was good practice for holding back comments these days to the over-users of the slang and superlatives currently in favor: no worries, my bad, absolutely, perfect, awesome, epic, to name a few. Yesterday someone said to me, “That is really super awesome” in response to a perfectly ordinary, unremarkable, polite offer I had made to her, certainly unworthy of that trio of exclamations. I just groaned inwardly, feeling the weight of excessive gratitude, yet grinning at the same time, cuz ya’ gotta’ slurp up the entertainment value when it’s offered.

The trouble is I get bored easily. Dull, repetitive language triggers my judgment inattention quickly, whether it’s crude or otherwise lacking in imagination, and I do not apologize for that. Haven’t you wondered about those folks who can’t seem to get through a sentence without using some form of the “F” word? If it were forbidden, would they be able to speak at all? Would they have anything to say? Language rich with diversity and depth makes my soul sing. I yearn to say, “Go ahead, dare to use the plethora of words that are just hanging out there, dusty from disuse, hoping you will make use of them.”

Positive language is awesome, but let’s diversify so our terrific superlatives don’t lose their flavor on the bedpost overnight; let’s give some others a chance to come out and play: those tremendous, splendid, remarkable, amazing, astounding, exceptional, first-rate, admirable, superb, faultless, flawless, seamless, unadulterated, impeccable, unimpeachable, immaculate, unsullied, unblemished, unspoiled, and pure vocabulary options. Or good. Just plain good.

Take the challenge: imagine how much richer your day would be if you trotted out one or two words that you don’t usually use? Try speaking aloud words you’ve only seen in print, lift them right off the page. How about mellifluous or soporiphic? I just came across “eschaton and eschatological” in The Irrational Season by Madeleine L’Engle. She is the quintessential model for boldly going where others dare not and I’ll bet she would love more company. Totally.