Do More Things Badly

My inner perfectionist flipped out when I first heard this recommendation from one of my mentors, Rebecca Latimer, who wrote a book called You’re Not Old Until You’re Ninety: Best To Be Prepared, However.

Rebecca said to me: “Oh SARK, when you speak to groups of people, would you please let them know that if they meditate and do it badly, it still works? And that goes for everything else, too. My best recommendation is to do more things badly.”

I knew from experience that my perfectionist ways were inhibiting my joy, so I took her recommendation to heart and began the conscious practice of doing more things badly or imperfectly, relieving myself of my former standards. I discovered that the more I did “badly,” the happier I felt.

I found that my inner perfectionist was exhausted by me and my ideas about how to do things. I’d learned very well from my perfectionist Mother how to do things “the right way,” meaning—basically—HER way, which took me years to figure out.

So that’s when I began doing things like eating a chocolate cake with no silverware, lying down in line at the bank, singing Amazing Grace at the Department of Motor Vehicles, doing a TV interview with the back of my hair soaked in coconut oil from a massage the night before and singing Karaoke—without alcohol! I also experimented with smaller, more mundane things too.

I have since learned that not only is it fun to do things badly, it is a real relief to give up so many of the “rules” I had grown up with and then imposed on myself. I have also learned that I’m a pretty high achiever, and in some cases an overachiever, so on a one-to-ten scale, dialing down from a ten to a five or six is barely noticeable to anyone else!

Still, it was noticeable to me, so I engaged in some practices to support my new freedom.

1. I give myself primary permission to do some things badly, imperfectly, or just differently.

I do this by experimenting, practicing, and noticing the results. For example, I’m usually very quick to do favors for people or fulfill requests. My younger brother had asked me to find out some information for him prior to his wedding, and I simply didn’t do it. When he asked for the information, I confessed that I didn’t have it and hadn’t done it. He was shocked and annoyed with me. I apologized, but I didn’t feel guilty. We processed what had happened and both realized that I was ALWAYS reliable, so rarely faltering that I’d given myself no room at all to just be human. It was really fun to watch him be the responsible one getting things done for his wedding, and I got to experience the role of someone who hadn’t followed through. I am now really learning to consciously give myself that primary permission that I’d always automatically given to other people.

2. I ignore or choose not to notice what others think.

I used to get so scared or worried if someone felt disappointed, annoyed or irritated with me about something I had or hadn’t done. I had been a people pleaser who relied on being filled up from outside sources in order to feel good. Now, through self-love and self-care, I fill myself up first and allow others to experience and take responsibility for their own emotions. I don’t focus on other people’s reactions much at all anymore, and it is such a great relief. I also practice ignoring people when I do unusual things, or I invite them to join in. I got the whole room to sing Amazing Grace with me at the DMV. Several people sat or layed down with me in the bank line, and it was no problem at all to find people to eat cake with me sans silverware!

3. I consistently practice self-love and exquisite self-care.

I practice living as a “full cup of self-love,” ready to share the overflow with the world. I used to live like a half-empty cup, looking for people or substances to fill me. Now that I’ve learned how to care for myself exquisitely, I can respond to the world, instead of reacting. In response, there is a choice, in reaction, there is very little choice. Now I intentionally choose the subject of, and reason for, my response. When I feel less than self-loving or caring, which is often every day, I engage in specific practices and processes to re-center myself. I am then able to extend so much more love to the world.

And of course, in all of the above, I also fail, falter, stumble, flail, flounder and do a lot of things badly—sometimes very badly. I’ve discovered that being truly self-loving is a long term relationship with myself that contains EVERYthing, as every relationship does. The point is not to love myself all the time. The point is to practice loving myself as consistently as I am able, in all sorts of conditions. This means practicing loving the fat, forgetful, resistant parts too. And when I turn away from myself in aversion, I bring myself back as lovingly as I am able. And perhaps an even greater challenge is to love the successful, brilliant and soaring parts of myself; I am sometimes more afraid of my joy than my pain. Pain seems easier to relate to, and joy can feel lonely.

My early abuse experiences taught me that pain lasts, and joy is unreliable. I have since learned to believe more in the opposite: joy is everlasting, and pain cannot always be trusted. And in between those two extremes lie the glorious middle spaces where most of my growth takes place. My explorations in doing more things badly have shown me that there is a lot of joy in the mess and chaos of living as a “splendidly imperfect” human being.