The Courage To Be Imperfect

I-Am-EnoughI’ve been writing a blog post entitled “Nine Ways to Beat Anxiety”. It’s sat there, unfinished, for weeks. In the meantime, my anxiety levels, which started rising when I decided to apply for a very competitive fellowship, have skyrocketed. Eventually I faced the facts – I was suffering a major relapse of Impostor Syndrome.

Impostor Syndrome is marked by the desperate feeling that some day someone is going to discover your dirty little secret – you’re just an impostor. You don’t belong where you are. You’ve faked your way. And some day, they are going to find out.

Impostor Syndrome took its toll on me. I started to say Yes to everything that might allay my Impostor anxiety. Looking back it was easy to see how it all snowballed. A host of changes looming this year, major milestones and deadlines, it all came to a head recently. I broke out in a rash, went to see my GP and wept (doctors are human too), and wept again when I saw my counsellor.

Deep down I couldn’t shake this feeling like I just wasn’t good enough, and I felt like I was paddling desperately to keep my head above the water. I also felt extremely time-pressured and like there was no escape.

I tried lots of things. I explored self-compassion – showing myself compassion, loving myself despite my imperfections. I started reading Brene Brown. I confessed to my husband, who already knew, really. Eventually, all of the above helped me make an enormous decision that lifted the burden significantly. But more on that in another post.

I’m now feeling a lot better. But not before I had done some soul-searching. I tried to search for the origin of these “not good enough” messages. I always assumed that someone, somewhere had said things that made me feel this way. But when I looked back, I realised that nobody had ever said to me that I was hopeless, or not a worthy person. I have had negative feedback, awkward moments, humiliation, embarrassment, times of extreme discomfort or stress, but mostly, the messages were internal. I interpreted negative feedback, no matter how minor, to mean that I was intrinsically “no good” as a person, and I was intensely uncomfortable with this feeling. So I always strived to be perfect, to avoid the burning shame of feeling inadequate. But the messages were all mine. The tape, the voice was mine. I couldn’t blame anyone else – I had, effectively, imprisoned myself.

The way forward, then, is to see myself as who I am. Not black and white, good or bad, but a human being intrinsically worthy of love and belonging. And to have the courage to stand up, feeling vulnerable, but accept my imperfections, even accept that I might fail. To have the courage to challenge my beliefs. To finally be kind to myself. This is the ultimate courage – to stand up to my own criticisms. It’s the only way to free myself from this prison of self-doubt. I have been my own worst enemy, for decades. But through these next few difficult weeks, I am going to be brave, by saying “I Am Enough”. That whatever outcomes arise from the day, the week, the month, or from this fellowship application, I am and always will be worthy of love and belonging.

I Am Enough.

Have you ever suffered from Impostor Syndrome? How did you cope with it? 

The Day I Ordered A Fairy Door

https://www.flickr.com/photos/stella12/7491105384/

https://www.flickr.com/photos/stella12/7491105384/

When my daughter turned four, I asked for birthday gift ideas. One was for a fairy door. A miniature door attached to the wall, where imaginary fairies emerge from. Given she is a huge fan of fairies in general, I went with this idea. Instead of ordering a $35 door marketed as a fairy door, I thought I would order a dolls house internal door (a hack I read about on the internet). I found a dolls house store on eBay and ordered a white wicker outdoor chair, a door knob, and some adorable accessories like a tiny broomstick, but yep, you guessed it, I forgot to order The Actual Door.

That was nine months ago.

Since then, “Order door” has been on my to-do list, but it has consistently made it to the bottom of the list below “Pay car insurance bill” and “Fill out kindy forms”. In other words, it became non-important, non-urgent. Time and time again that door order was bumped right to the bottom while I swashbuckled my way through a year of being a full-time PhD student, GP and mama. I wrote papers. I organised workshops. I took my kids to the dentist, allergist, and cardiologist. I analysed data. I did Christmas. And that fairy door was faithfully transferred from one list to the next, never quite making it up there. Until today.

Last night I awoke suddenly to a realisation. My daughter is going to be five soon. Before I know it, she will be six. Then seven. Then a teenager. Slowly, and yet not slowly enough, she is changing. She says Sesame Street is boring. She only wants to play with her friends (not me). She spends a lot of time alone in her room playing by herself. Life isn’t going to stop for us – the dentist appointments (sadly) will continue, the bills will keep coming in, my career will continue to burgeon and demand my attention. I will have school lunches to pack, recitals to attend, pap smears to get done (yay!)

One day I might wake up and it might be too late for that fairy door. That tiny piece of wood with six panels will only be that to her – a piece of wood. Not a magical doorway into fairyland and her imagination. That poor neglected door might finally arrive, if I ever get down to the bottom of my to-do list (it’s like the laundry – virtually impossible to clear) and she might not care a hoot for it. Non-important and non-urgent. But today, it went to the top of my list. Important and Urgent.

Urgent because time is passing as I busy myself with the tasks of raising a family and building a career, as we see birthdays, Christmas and Easter come and go each year like the ebb and flow of an unceasing tide. Tree goes up, tree goes down. Presents are wrapped and unwrapped. Each year marking a little bit more of a loss of this precious time, when imagination is at its peak, when my little girl starts every sentence with “Pretend I am…”

When will she stop pretending? When will she no longer believe in fairies and unicorns? I don’t know. But I don’t want to be too late.

So today, after taking a pause in the middle of writing yet another paper, I ordered the fairy door. And two tiny cat bowls (fairies have cats, don’t they?) A miniature pink mail-box, where she can put a tiny note to the fairies in. And a side table to go with that white wicker chair. (I almost ordered a set of four little celebration cakes and a miniature flower pot but I sensibly stopped myself).

Any day now, that door will arrive in the mail. We’ll paint it and put it up on the wall together with the fairy’s chair and table. And she’ll wait each morning to see what the fairy has done overnight. Eventually she’ll get bored of it and it will be forgotten. But not before I’ve had the chance to enjoy, to fully embrace, the marvel of childhood. The simplicity, the innocence, the beauty of this short time, before the fairy doors and unicorns and dolls and teddies are given away and packed in boxes and my children emerge into independent adults who no longer believe that fairies exist.

So much of child-rearing is important but not urgent. Today I learned that much of it is more urgent than we think. Over in a heartbeat, they say. During the long difficult baby and toddler months and years, this seems ludicrous, but the older my children get, the more I am appreciating it.

Important, and Urgent.

Lessons in Slowing Down: How I Plan On Managing My Time

By Paolo Neo [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

By Paolo Neo [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Time is a funny thing. When I became a parent, and then a working parent, it became a precious commodity. I am obsessed with it. Each half-hour of my life is carefully plotted out on an Outlook calendar. Like Annabel Crabb, I use the whole day like an Italian farmer uses every scrap of the pig. One thing was sure – I never feel like I have enough of it. Time, that is. But then odd things sometimes happen – I will fall into a pocket of free time, and not know what to do with it. And, coming across a tiny patch of “leisure time”, I do what any other adult with a smartphone would do – check Facebook. Or Twitter. Click on a link and read funny “Engrish” signs or watch cat videos on Youtube. Which is all very entertaining, and I do subscribe to the idiom “laughter is the best medicine”, but watching another video of a cat on a Roomba is surely not the best way to spend my life and fill up those empty “windows” that pop up unexpectedly – like when the kids are playing quietly instead of fighting over me. Additionally, I have started to become more anxious, with self-doubt starting to rise again. I felt rushed, but also like I wasn’t getting anywhere.

Yesterday I read a quote by Carl Sandburg that went

“Time is the most valuable coin in your life. You and you alone will determine how that coin will be spent. Be careful that you do not let other people spend it for you”. 

This was my first “aha!” moment for the year. I am going to manage my time firstly by living the life that I want to live, that I am meant to live – not the life I think I should live, or what others think I should  (though I am always open to suggestions). I can only be who I am - and that includes being a mother to two (currently small) children, and someone who doesn’t (yet) possess superhuman skills. Me with all my unique talents, quirks, personality traits, aptitudes, shortcomings, weaknesses and commitments. I am certain that this alone is enough to allow me to lead a wonderful life. I think the anxiety arising from feeling pressured to be someone else was contributing to the sense of feeling rushed and not having time, and paradoxically, driving me to hide in non-threatening activities like socialising on Facebook. I am going to be me, but will aim to be the best version of me that I can be. And that version will involve a little more reflection, learning, integrity, self-compassion, and that elusive concept, balance. I will attend to Quadrant II – important but not urgent activities. I will exercise conscious choice and cease the habit of reacting that I have slipped back into. Time is no longer something to be managed, but something to be spent wisely. So, I should really re-title this post “How I Plan On Spending My Time”.

I leave you with some words from Steve Jobs.

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

 

What about you? Do you feel as though you are spending your time the way you should? How do you decide how to spend your time? 

Lessons in Slowing Down: The Ship Metaphor

http://freeaussiestock.com/free/New_South_Wales/sydney/slides/QEII.htm

http://freeaussiestock.com/free/New_South_Wales/sydney/slides/QEII.htmLessons

I’ve been thinking a lot about this mission of mine to slow down in 2015. I’ve had lots of metaphors going, but the ship metaphor has been my favourite. It doesn’t just apply to slowing down – it applies to many areas of my life that make me feel anxious, nervous or unbalanced. I was inspired in the first place by the following quote from Rear Admiral Grace Hopper:
“A ship in port is safe; but that is not what ships are built for. Sail out to sea and do new things.”
So here are the reasons I am going to be a mother ship in 2015 and beyond.
1. Ships are strong.
They’re designed by experts to weather the storms at sea and last for decades. They’re the world’s mightiest vessels. This helps me feel less vulnerable if I’m facing a new challenge with trepidation, or feeling a bit fragile or rough around the edges. (You know those moments when you feel like hiding under the quilt?) Ships are strong. I am a strong mother ship. I don’t crack under pressure.
2. Ships are made to weather the storms.
Kind of like (1) – ships are strong. They forge through a storm. I’m not a hopeless little rubber dinghy being batted about by the wind and waves. I am built to last through wild weather and then sail into calm waters. Because the storm always passes, eventually. I must remember this.
3. Ships need regular maintainence.
This is one of my favourite parts of the metaphor. Ships may sail out to sea but they always return to port, and have their barnacles lovingly scraped off, all bits checked and tuned, and repairs carried out. They’re only as good as how well they are maintained. This essential maintenance is scheduled in, to keep it strong, to extend its life, so it can keep on carrying its cargo. So in 2015 I am objectively scheduling in MY maintainence. To be honest, I am not actually sure what my maintainence should be, but it sure is an interesting exercise thinking about it. For me, at this stage of my life, I think I need regular physical exercise, down-time, some pampering, some reprieve from tight scheduling, and some fun. I need quality time with the kids and my husband. I need to see my girlfriends and have a laugh. I need mentoring. Inspiration. Kindness. And something to look forward to. Always something to look forward to.
4. Ships are graceful.
Not only are ships strong, but they exude a mighty sense of grace. They don’t get grumpy or flustered. They are as graceful as they are mighty.
5. Ships go places.
As in the quote, ships are made to sail the seas and explore. Ships do not hide in harbours, fearing the open sea. As long as the maintainence has been attended to, ships are built to take on risk. And, hopefully, this metaphor will help me as I face the changes that loom in the future – with more enthusiasm and less trepidation.
6. Even when ships are going fast, it feels like they’re not.
Instead of paddling a flimsy kayak furiously and going nowhere fast, if I go with the ship metaphor then I can imagine myself sailing effortlessly to my destination, wherever that may be.
It hasn’t been an easy week. I feel daunted by what I need to achieve this year – an 80,000 word thesis is in there somewhere. I’ve been meditating, almost desperately, to try to relieve some of my anxiety, which is probably counter-productive. But slowly, with practice, I’ll be able to transform my self image from tiny helpless kayak to strong, graceful mother ship. I’m looking forward to a more stable journey, a greater sense of strength, and of course, the maintainence.
What about you? How are you travelling at the start of 2015? What do you think your essential maintainence would be? 

The Magic Bank Account

Well good morning! It’s the first day back at work for many of us. I hope that you’re all feeling ready for the week! Today I’d like to share something that one of my lovely followers posted. I do not know the source of this piece, but if you know, please let me know so I can attribute it correctly. It’s a poignant reminder of how precious every day is. Enjoy x

Imagine that you had won the following *PRIZE* in a contest: Each morning your bank would deposit $86,400 in your private account for your use. However, this prize has rules. The set of rules:

1. Everything that you didn’t spend during each day would be taken away from you.

2. You may not simply transfer money into some other account.

3. You may only spend it.

4. Each morning upon awakening, the bank opens your account with another $86,400 for that day.

5. The bank can end the game without warning; at any time it can say, “Game Over!”. It can close the account and you will not receive a new one.

What would you personally do?

You would buy anything and everything you wanted right? Not only for yourself, but for all the people you love and care for. Even for people you don’t know, because you couldn’t possibly spend it all on yourself, right?

You would try to spend every penny, and use it all, because you knew it would be replenished in the morning, right?

ACTUALLY, This GAME is REAL …

Each of us is already a winner of this *PRIZE*. We just can’t seem to see it. 

The PRIZE is *TIME*

1. Each morning we awaken to receive 86,400 seconds as a gift of life.

2. And when we go to sleep at night, any remaining time is not credited to us.

3. What we haven’t used up that day is forever lost.

4. Yesterday is forever gone.

5. Each morning the account is refilled, but the bank can dissolve your account at any time without warning…

So, what will you do with your 86,400 seconds?

Those seconds are worth so much more than the same amount in dollars. Think about it and remember to enjoy every second of your life, because time races by so much quicker than you think.

So take care of yourself, be happy, love deeply and enjoy life!
Here’s wishing you a wonderful and beautiful day. Start “spending”….

https://www.flickr.com/photos/zoutedrop/2317065892/

https://www.flickr.com/photos/zoutedrop/2317065892/

“DON’T COMPLAIN ABOUT GROWING OLD,
SOME PEOPLE DON’T GET THE PRIVILEGE”.