Good Enough
The Deep, The Elders Comments (16)
My grandparents taught themselves how to golf in their 30s, making them late bloomers where the game is concerned. Within a few years of learning, they were beating everyone they played, winning competition after competition with the kind of ease that infuriates those who work relentlessly on their form. They started teaching me the game when I was 4 years old and by the time I was 11, I could beat anyone I played while using a starter set of clubs (seven clubs to the normal 14). The problems started when I received my first full set of clubs. My feeling at the time, contrary to those around me, was that I would doubtless continue to improve faster with the extra clubs and the subsequent accuracy they afforded. I was warned, however, by people who were much better than me that contrary to my belief, additional clubs required hours more practice per club and a ratcheting in of both expectations and attitude; it was the mind that needed to be controlled more than swing. I was young, however, and when you’re young you do everything with a loose freedom that either enhances your ability or hinders it. Mine was enhanced until I started thinking harder about the clubs and the potential consequences and pitfalls of every shot. I picked up perfectionism early and it pushed me just beyond mediocrity and held me just south of excelling.
Early on, competitions were easy, but later when they started to matter, I’d choke. I’d tighten up, start overanalyzing every shot, every swing, even every thought. This went on through high school and whenever I’d play in various competitions in the military. I played in college as a walk on, but it was more of the same. I could never seem to get my game to show up when it mattered. The frustration for both me and my various coaches was that outside of competition, I was solid. This is still true to a certain degree. I don’t play nearly as much anymore, sadly, but whenever I do, within a few swings muscle memory takes over. It even seems that the longer I go without playing, the better and more accurate I am. This, I’ve come to understand, is largely due to a complete lack of expectation on my part regarding my ability at the time; without applying the weight of how I should play, I end up playing the way I’m able.
This perfectionism manifested itself in every way that such an epidemic in one’s life can, despite my being well-versed on both its method and its madness. It would be inaccurate of me to say that this particular trait had nothing to do with my professional and academic success for the majority of my adult life. At the same time, it was also the architect of my eventual burn-out and failure; the transition between fearing that you won’t be good enough and believing it is very subtle. I’ve managed to obtain a pretty enviable balance in the last few years, primarily through finding ways to harness and focus the drive. Still. When I finished my masters thesis last May, my advisors and a number of the faculty voiced their amazement at the accomplishment based on the breadth of the research and the work involved. I think one reason that I have a hard time accepting compliments such as these is because I know how fine the line is that I walk in order to get to them.
I am not academically gifted by any stretch of the imagination and have always sucked righteously at taking tests. I was flattered when the door to a PhD swung wide here and by virtue of the work I’ve done, walked in without being too intimidated. I took the first test on Friday and felt genuinely confident going in following a week of studying compounded by junk previously learned. I did fine, but here’s the thing: I should’ve done much better and in thinking this, I’m setting myself up for disaster. As soon as I got the test, I started forgetting things, questioning myself, second guessing details, etc. I went in with an expectation of how I should do and proceeded to sabotage myself. Instead of unwinding Friday night and throughout the weekend, I spent it rehashing the minute details of every question with which I’d felt uncomfortable and being amazed at my inability to regurgitate stuff that I knew. It’s exactly the same as stepping up to a shot, knowing precisely how to hit it, then talking yourself out of it because you’re so afraid of not executing it exactly right. My eagerness to look at this as self-relegated mediocrity worries me because I know this is a very slippery slope: Studying becomes an endeavor to know everything instead of what’s required and, in the end, nothing is retained.
I’ve always been my own harshest critic and perfect arch-nemesis and in this I suppose I differ little from the majority of the world. There are certainly benefits to being your own devil’s advocate, but it’s important that it has a squelch, lest the devil’s become the only voice you hear. I’ve spent a great deal of time trying to negotiate with the part of me that seems to insist upon holding me back despite my best efforts and just when I think I have a handle on it, I seem compelled to remind myself of the failure involved in being good enough and how my expectations exceed anything I could ever hope to accomplish. An inability to ever be satisfied with one’s proficiency or accomplishments may be the worst fate possible because everything south of perfection is viewed as failure. There’s little difference between fearing failure and fearing success. I’m stuck in the middle. This is a pisser.
P.S. Johnny Law found my ring in a pawn shop last week! Three cheers for Johnny Law!
Sir @ September 23, 2008
you’re such a clear writer. seriously. i like that in a writer. you explain this mindset so clearly that i can imagine what it must be like to be that way, though i’m not. for my part, i’m a person of no expectation whatsoever. i always ace tests, but i don’t do anything with that ability. my life is a point, not a vector.
cool about the ring.
hello, sir.
i always play a much better round when i am busy worrying about something else. in our tournament this year i focused entirely on the game and for the first time in 3 years, we lost the trophy.
god bless the game, though. i don’t think i’d like it if it ever liked me back.
Dude, get out of my head!
Seriously, though, I also suffer from aspects of what you’ve described above. Add in a crippling lack of self-esteem (I won’t go into why, as you are likely not anywhere near drunk enough to have to sit through that) and the resulting pathological need for approval from others, and, well, even perfection isn’t enough sometimes. The logical conclusion of following this road? A lifetime spent shut away from other people, from experiences, from life in general. A self-imposed padded cell, both mental and physical. Not a fun place to be. And the longer you stay there, the harder it gets to leave.
But I have much faith that you can overcome this. After all, knowing is (more than) half the battle.
Ah, perfectionism. My old nemesis-friend. Someone once gave me some brilliant advice that I love to give to other people, because I’m like that. This advice applied to going on theater auditions, but it applies to many other things in life as well. A paraphrase goes like this:
Prepare, prepare, prepare. Be ready to nail it. And then, two seconds before you start, take a deep breath, say “Ah, f*ck it,” and just do it.
You, Sir, are not going to fail. Let go. When you do, and only when you do, you will have room to astound the hell out of yourself, and that is something to strive for, um, preposition.
yay for johnny law! has my ring been evicted yet?
Scott: There’s something to be said for being nothing more than a point. Vertorhood can wear a person down over the course of time.
Brandon: Amen. I love golf and miss playing it.
Trish: I’ve known it for quite a while, which is why I tend to worry that it’s too ingrained to extract. I’ve lived and experienced quite a bit, but always more in spite of myself than for simply the sake of enjoyment. I’ve been in the cell for a long time and you’re exactly right about how it gets harder and harder to leave.
Jamelah: You speak the truth. I’ve said it before and Trish just said it again: Knowing is half the battle. The other half is buying that what you know is worth your action, then doing something about it. Academically, I feel like I have to know everything in order to be ready for any question that may arise. This is exactly how the medical school here designed their program. They place a bunch of A-type, driven, perfectionists into each class, then throw more at them than they can handle for the first two years. It’s admittedly a form of hazing, but what the burgeoning doctors learn is how to discern what is and isn’t important to know. The PhD program isn’t all that different. Attrition isn’t the goal, but being smart isn’t nearly enough to get you through.
Kat: The rings are currently sharing my ring’s original wooden box. It’s very snug and cozy and would make for an adorable picture were it not for the fact that my camera was among the items ganked. After I replace the camera, I’ll take a picture of them before sending it back your way.
sir, I can identify with quite a bit of what you wrote.. well other than the golfing part.. but I guess that was metaphorical. I am pretty guilty of being my own worst critic and moreover, and much worse, not applauding my victories as much as I should. But, well, there are much worse things one can be.. live and learn is the only way out here.. that and valuing the opinion of the few honest friends who will tell me when I am being a perfectionist and missing out on everything else in the process.
I am working on my PhD as well, and am not very “academically gifted” either.. but I can put in a hard day’s work and sometimes that combined with a little perfectionism can go a long way.. come on, haven’t you seen enough scientists who are brilliant but suffer because they are abysmal at real world stuff? …. haha@real world stuff … see what I meant about not being gifted?!! :-D
congratulations on getting the ring back!! I thought those kinda things happen only in the movies!
well if you are ever out here, i have three sets of clubs and two coolers, so let me know. also, does your email address to the right work? i think i sent an email, but not sure if it got through. let me know!
knowing is half the battle, but i think it’s the bloodiest half. the push/pull scenario we create for ourselves is an enslavement like no other… moving from one end of the padded cell to the other, never assimilating what we, in fact, inherently know to be true: neither extreme will serve us well, and perfectionism, especially, will elude us every time. every. single. time. it is the true and proven nature of the damned beast.
it’s a misnomer. it doesn’t exist. but we hang around in limbo because it’s what we know. like the sad and sorry victim of domestic abuse… ‘comfort’ in the familiar, black eyes, broken ribs, and all.
welcome home to the ring, back where it belongs.
Oh, for shit’s sake. If you have a passion to study something and aren’t an obligate mouth-breather – the passion can get you through the academic hazing of a PhD.
If you love what you do, you care about quality, work yourself hard – it’ll work.
Grades on tests and courses, no one gives a fuck anymore… it’s about research and publication.
(been there, done that).
Don’t psych yourself out of success or prevent yourself from pursuing your strengths. All too many of us are our worst critics – and it just isn’t helpful.
Manu: I have, indeed, seen those types. I was even interviewed by one of them. There’s a good side to it, I know…it’s just a matter of finding that balance and you’d think (I’d think) that at 35 and having been around the block once or twice, I’d have garnered some sort of control over my darker impulses. Human nature is such bullshit.
Brandon: I have an irrational love for your part of the country, so you’d have a harder time getting me to leave than actually getting me out there. The email address is correct, but I’ve only received the comment email; not sure what happened to the other one.
J: I recall that G.I. Joe was a big proponent of the idea that knowing is half the battle. I always assumed that the other half involved defeating, but never destroying, your enemies (C.O.B.R.A) in elaborate and well-drawn battles. Oh, if only life were so simple.
K: Having just gone through the academic hazing of a masters degree, I think I was anticipating that the academic portion of the PhD would be relatively devoid of ass pain. Or at least the ass pain would wouldn’t be so bad. And it’s not, really. It’s just that I expect to excel having previously seen some of this stuff and defended a thesis involving portions of it. That said, the test was still an ass-kicker, despite the preparation and background. I take little comfort in the fact that the ass-kicking was universal and that mine wasn’t kicked nearly as badly as some others, but that’s not the point. The point is that I should stop being such a dick to myself.
“The point is that I should stop being such a dick to myself”
I am going to put that on a t-shirt. And wear it everyday for the rest of my life. Thank you K…:)
erm.. I meant Thank you SIR… getting smarter is another thing that’s on my to do list..
We should all stop being dicks to ourselves.
Or, y’know, in general…
Oh Sir, best of luck to you. I empathize… or rather, sympathize with your dilemma. Being perfect myself, I can only imagine how difficult it must be to want perfection but not have it. I’d loan you some of mine, but then I wouldn’t be perfect, so I’ll just sympathize from a distance, perfectly. ;)
We are our own worst critics. Maybe if you were so perfect academically you wouldn’t be such a great writer or be able to appreciate something funny. It’s hard to stop beating ourselves up, but, maybe if you could you might see that you have a lot of other perfect (or at least well-roundedness) in you.