Tuesday, July 2, 2019

Perfectibility and perfectionism

How badly should I feel about falling short of the mark? And what is the mark?

The other day I read a prayer offered at the end of a piece published in Quaker Life magazine. Here it is:

God,
I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being so hard. For being graceless, merciless. Please, forgive me. Open my heart, my mind, and my sight. May I see people in their realness, sit with them and love them in their realness. Please help me as I try to be better tomorrow.
Amen.

The Kennebec river, visible through the woods


There are parts of the prayer I find excellent ("May I see people in their realness, sit with them and love them in their realness") but the opening distresses me. I don't like the idea that if I fall short of perfection, I need to apologize about being "so hard". I am human, and imperfect by that nature, and so allow me to strive for the ideals (loving people in their realness) without having to say sorry. Let me ask for divine help and guidance ("help me to...") without asking for forgiveness for falling short of the mark.

L. says that in Jewish tradition, humans are in the world to perfect it. The purpose of human life is to perfect the imperfect world that the almighty intentionally gave to us. It is understood that we will never fully achieve perfection, never fully succeed at the task. Each day, though, is spent in the attempt, and incremental steps toward perfection are acknowledged.

This sounds so much more useful to me than a mentality where I'm supposed to bring about perfectibility but actually expected to achieve it (which, to me, the apology in the prayer implies. Why would I apologize if I didn't expect to successfully achieve perfection?)

Let's say I wake up and pray for the ability to be the perfect, Christ-like teacher one school day. The day continues, and I respond with patience and tolerance in many situations, and also respond brashly and unkindly in a few others. I make some people feel badly, even if I don't realize it. When I do realize it, I apologize, but some damage has been done. I learn about my own tendencies, and at the end of the day I think I know myself and my way of relating to others better. I realize where I might behave differently tomorrow. In my prayer at the end of the day, let me say not "I'm sorry," but "Thank you for the lessons of today." Let the prayer be

God,
You taught me many things today. Thank you for the opportunity to be of service to others, and to be enriched by my interactions with them. Help me use the lessons from today to improve my interactions with others tomorrow. Help me see where you are leading me. 
Amen.

My problem with the apology for imperfection is that it makes self-compassion hard, and I think self-compassion is already hard enough. When I fall short of the mark, I am often tempted to reprimand myself. I speak in terms that no one else would use with me if they expected to be my friend. I am harsher on myself than I would be on others.

This area has a way of achieving perfection every moment.

What if, encountering our own imperfections we said, instead of "I'm sorry I'm so hard[-headed]" "Of course. Of course I'm so hard headed. I'm human and that's what humans are. I am dealing with my own demons and struggles which prevent me from being perfect. Thank you, self, for your attempts to make it through space and time safely and feeling OK. Let's try to rely more on God's power and less on our own control tomorrow."

How we talk to ourselves matters so much. The simple switch from "I'm sorry for being this way" to "Of course I'm this way - good for me for working daily to improve" could lead to quite the evolution in how we relate to ourselves and the world. 

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