details blog-Jul-0714-002-©DGreco

In which I aim for good enough rather than perfect.

I offer you a confession—I am a recovering perfectionist. As previously mentioned, I spent most of my life believing that in order to be liked and accepted, I had to be perfect. Like any other addiction, if I fail to live mindfully, I can easily fall back into destructive patterns. Hypothetically, this might include: obsessing over small details (How are sixty cars going to fit on our narrow, dead end street?), micromanaging my staff (“Matt, you’re supposed to apply the paint in even, linear strokes and avoid drips!”), or adding items to my to do list as quickly as I check others off (see above photo of my four lists).

We want this weekend to go smoothly. We want it to be elegant. We want folks to feel welcomed and loved. We want a lot. This would not be problematic if I had a full time personal assistant, if we all stopped eating for the remainder of the week, and if I only needed four hours of sleep.

Tonight I have a choice to make. Do I continue to push myself and my “staff” (who are arguably getting a bit weary) for two more days or do I let go and settle for good enough? Will my son and his bride look back on this day ten years from now and reminisce, “Weren’t your mom’s flower beds remarkably weed free? And how about that kitchen floor! Have you ever seen it so shiny?” Not.  

Attending to details is a good thing. It can make the difference between a so-so event and one that is remarkable. Our advance planning will lighten the load on Monday and hopefully diminish everyone’s stress level. However, at some point, there’s wisdom in putting the garden tools in the shed, stowing the vacuum in the closet, and returning the paint cans to the basement.

I’m giving myself until 1:00 tomorrow to finish. I hope to spend the remainder of the day resting, praying, and pondering what needs to be said during their ceremony. Hold me accountable, will you?

Notes from the field. Second application of garlic juice was sprayed. Lawn was mowed. The tent and the root beer arrive tomorrow.

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