When I was in college as an English major, I took an entry-level ballet class. All the other girls were dance majors or minors, and had been dancing for years. I was clumsy and big, not graceful at all, or even particularly flexible. Going to class was overwhelming at first – I was shamed that I wasn’t very good. And then, I realized that no one else cared. Because I wasn’t a dance major or minor, no one even took much notice of me. Knowing that I was easily the worst dancer there, and that it didn’t matter one bit, freed me to enjoy the process of dancing without feeling too self-conscious.

But thank you for this entry. You’re right, of course – we shouldn’t care whether we’re the best or not, only what we get out of it.

“Use what talents you possess – the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there but those who sang best.”

-William Blake

Last night was a great example: I constructed a baby sling for my partner – she couldn’t use the other baby carrier we have since the fit was too large. So I sewed one similar to a product retailing online and at brick-and-mortars for $100, at a third of the price. I won’t be on Project Runway but can sew some things if need be.

Love to bike, but I am slow. Love photography, but sometimes feel perplexed with the whole process. But, I keep on doing it because it gives me enjoyment. I like to surf and snowboard, but I am not the most agile nor coordinated. I have some basic skills in the kitchen, but will not be anything like a Top Chef.

I keep doing those things because I am “good enough” to get feel satisfied with my efforts.

I did ballet for six years after that, but after my 8th grade recital, I gave it up. I loved ballet so much, but when I moved upstate, I went to a new dance school and was never allowed in the intermediate program, only the adult beginners. I was in the beginners program for 4 years, and I always thought I just wasn’t good enough to get into the higher class. Eventually, I just gave it up.

I really wish I had kept going, because it was something I loved doing. It’s one of the few things I regret in my life.

After years of recurring depression, I’ve come to recognise that this perfectionism has ONLY ever made me miserable. Not to imply that it was the only reason for my illness, but all-or-nothing thinking is one of the areas a therapist will help you to remedy.

This post was a good reminder. I’m going to go get my sketchbook.

Then again, I think that kind of language is a cover up for not being passionate about it. Perhaps you were merely continuing to dance because you had always danced and the excuse of “I’m not the best” was a way of rationalizing quitting due to a lack of passion, which would be harder to admit after so many years invested in it.

I’m doing less comparisons than I used to but I still can be bit. Happened last week – We went out to dinner with friends and I thought I had put together a pretty cute outfit. When I saw what the other women in the group had on, I felt more like I had dressed for a night on the coach.

I like the idea of being perfectly imperfect. When I’m at my best, I’m doing things imperfectly. When I’m doing what I love I’m at my best, I don’t care if other people are on their game too. I actually am exited that they are. It’s when we are not first attending to what makes us hum that we care if someone else is better, taller, smarter, faster than us.

It’s so liberating to free yourself from the necessity of performing at a certain level so you can focus on enjoying the situation.

And you know what? During the time I’ve been putting off getting started, others have launched into the same space and done perfectly well, and are getting better every day. Which just shows that getting started is half the battle.