Perfectly Imperfect

You are not perfect. You will never achieve perfection. You will cry and have you heart broken. You’ll get too tipsy on a bottle of good wine and snort when you laugh sometimes. You’ll skip your morning run because you want to sleep in. Your job will have its highs and lows, and your relationships too.

I am not perfect either. I break down frequently, struggle, and make mistakes. I eat too much chocolate or ice cream in a sitting at times, and I don’t always take care of myself. I get lost in my work and feel alone sometimes, and when I do, I discovered a renewed commitment to reconnection.

We are perfectly imperfect. We have rough edges that we learn from. When we’re afraid, we lean into that fear and discover its gift for us. We fall in love and break up and fall in love again.

We are something better than perfect. We are growing, we are evolving. We are glorious. 

And yes, it’s hard often. We want to hold ourselves to the ideals society creates, to the ideals that we create. We want to accomplish and achieve, we want to impress.

But chasing perfectionism holds us back. We wait until the conditions are just right, though they will never be. That’s where I was two years ago. I hated my job, but was waiting for an out — ideally, a husband, so I could start my own business but have his health insurance as a safety net. I grew tired of waiting. I wanted the change and I decided to do it. Success or failure, it was mine.

I’ve seen a lot of friends and clients fall into the same trap of waiting for ideal conditions, waiting for perfect to happen. They obsess over their website, convinced every element must be in the perfect place, every word must be carefully picked, and as a result, they never launch.

Here’s what I’ve learned and here’s what I tell clients and friends all the time: Success comes from imperfect action. It comes from being willing to start somewhere and grow from there.

My friends know me to be a skilled baker, but when I first started, results were often inedible, or worse, so hard that they could dent a car (ah, killer muffins…). I learned, I kept experimenting, and eventually, the final products were not only edible but heavenly.

Where are you holding back, waiting for perfectionism to arrive? Where will you take imperfection action today?



Inspiration vs. Perspiration

At my mastermind retreat last week (the reason I was MIA from my blog), I had several conversations with fellow business owners about content schedules. Many of them — and many of my clients as well — create content calendars for their blogs and newsletters weeks or even months in advance.

I was being hard on myself at that moment. I mean, I missed both of my blog posts last week because I hadn’t properly scheduled my time around this retreat. Frankly, I was overwhelmed and something had to give.

Several times in the past, I tried to create lists of blog topics and schedules of what I would write when. The problem for me is that it seems so unnatural.

Writing for me is about inspiration first, perspiration second.

I can’t commit to a calendar where I write posts on ‘The Top 5 Things You Need to Know to Do Something” on Tuesdays and share recent projects on Thursdays, or anything like that. It feels disingenuous. I would rather share with you what’s happening in my life at the moment I’m writing. I would prefer to be honest with you about what’s working and what isn’t, rather than “creating” content.

I want it to come from my heart, not my head.

That’s not to say the head stuff isn’t good, or that perspiration isn’t good. Once I have the idea, it’s that perspiration part that makes it happen. I value that push. I just happen to love pushing even more when something resonates with me, when it comes from a deeper place.

So I don’t think you should choose between inspiration and perspiration, but recognize how one can lead to the other and how much more exciting it is when that happens. That’s why I’m blogging what I know, what I want to share, and hope that you connect.


Binging on Business

When I committed to my mastermind group in December, I promised myself that I was really going to get my business set up right this year. My business had a lot of growth in 2014 — my income tripled from my first partial year and the projects were flowing in. But it was all me and the hours I was working were very reflective of that. I wanted more freedom in business, the ability to take a vacation without the anxiety of knowing there were unanswered emails piling up, the time to dream big in all I was doing and work on projects that I loved.

So I promised myself I would work on my business like an athlete training for the Olympics.

Three months in and I’m seeing some incredible changes. My work load hasn’t let up yet (and won’t any time soon), but everything I’m doing has a clear purpose. There’s intention behind it, there’s strategy.

Where is all of this strategy coming from? Obviously, the mastermind group is a big part of my growth, but I’ve also been reading some incredible books lately that every soulful entrepreneur needs to dive into. Here are four to get you started:

The Big Leap by Gay Hendricks
Entreleadership by Dave Ramsey
The Referral of a Lifetime by Tim Templeton
The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz

While the first three are obvious business books, the last one, The Four Agreements, definitely doesn’t fall into that category. However, this book has such valuable insights about being in the world that I can’t leave it off this list. It has profoundly shaped how I see the world, and I attribute a good portion of my past success to what I learned from it. The Four Agreements is the first you should pick up — and have a permanent home for on your bookshelf.

What books have you been learning from lately?

Gym Room Defocused

Letting Go of Judgments

Yesterday morning, I was working out with my trainer, Helen, at the gym. We were in front of the large mirrored wall and I was doing squats with a kettle bell. Around me there were guys working out and lifting weights.

The scene totally struck me.

Ten years ago, I would have been incredibly intimidated to be in the free weight area, sweating and turning pink with all the cardio and lifting work I was doing. In fact once I had even gone home and cried after a trainer made me spend the whole session in the free weight area then proceeded to tell me that now was the time for me to “get in shape” and “stop being lazy”. Okay, clearly all of the crying wasn’t just because of where I had to work out. It was because I felt judged, by that trainer and by the people around me.

In my 20s, I felt the weight of judgments all the time. Did that guy think I was attractive? Does that woman think I’m fat? What does he think of me? How does she see me? I constantly was looking at myself through the eyes of other people and wondering. And even if they weren’t actually judging me, I was judging myself. I was trying to force myself into this concept of perfection that I (or society in my head) had created. It was exhausting and I felt small.

It took me years, but I learned to let go of all of that.

It wasn’t a single thing that changed my perspective. It was archery — being around men, jokingly flirting with them all, and having a good time. It was my business — discovering that I could be completely in control of my life, my time, and (most importantly) my self-worth. It was friends — the amazing women who are in my life, each who has helped me expand into myself, love myself, and trust myself.

As I did my squats and pushups and deadlifts at the gym yesterday, I had myself in mind. My thoughts were on how strong I felt and how much healthier I was becoming, not on what the guy next to me thought of me or if other gym members thought I was overweight or chubby or whatever.

That was an amazing feeling: to be focused on who I am, on who I want to become. And to know I’ve given up so many of the judgments that were once in my head.

It’s all a process. The self-judging still creeps in at times, but it’s gotten so much better. I feel like I’m living my life now, rather than shaping my life because I’m worried about what others think.

We can all relate, can’t we?

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