Friday, February 10, 2006

I am a (recovering) perfectionist...how do you put your pants on?

Now that I think about it, the left leg does always go in first!

I can't say I'm a big fan of this time of year. Right now it's because the Tennessee Press Association's yearly contest is rolling around, and I have to look back over the last year, decide what from my overworked, understaffed output is likely to get shot down the least and submit it to a faceless group of critics that will tear it to shreds, use if for hamster cage material and eventually toss it out along with the hamster's output.

Ah humanity. Ah the struggles of a perfectionistic writer.

It's not so much the fact that I never win anything that bothers me. I can deal with mediocrity. I know that everything I write cannot sparkle like sun on a snow-covered field. More often than not whenever I spend an exorbitant amount of time writing something it's worse than if I'd spent less time and effort. So I've grown to accept the fact that I'll probably never be satisfied with what comes out of my head and onto a screen. The newspaper business does that to anyone who enjoys writing. It doesn't allow the perfectionist to be himself, and that's a good thing.

The problem is that those judging never know that my work, which should be the collaborative work of a staff of at least two or three people, comes from one person. I wonder what I could do if I were doing one person's work instead, and though I don't normally care about what others think of me, it seems that the critics don't understand the playing field my work is done on. (Sorry about the sports cliche).

I dislike this whole process because it makes me reflect on an area of my life, that being my work, that continually shows me lacking. I've never enjoyed not being the best at something. I've always wanted to do my best, and if that's wasn't enough, I've wanted to make "my best" better. And I can't do that right now...I'm maxed out.

Add to the equation another "full-time" position, and I'm struck with the startling fact that a recovering perfectionist like myself will always be continually reminded of who he is and what his limitations are, day by day, moment by moment. I guess that's probably what I dislike the most in this process...realizing that I'm selfish. I cannot excel at what I do apart from the power of Christ, and my callings will never be satisfied if they're fueled by a desire for the praise of men.

But yet, it's so natural to do things in my own power and for other people's praise. I don't even think about it...it's like putting on a pair of pants. Not until I stop and really think about what I'm doing do I realize that the left leg always goes in first. Taking time to think and meditate on Scripture must be a starting point, but I still haven't found the handbook for walking in the Spirit and by the Spirit's power.