Unlearning Perfectionism
I’ve been mulling over Arun Prasad’s ‘Unlearning Perfectionism’ for the past couple of months.
It was introduced to me on a semi-drunken night out at Quantum Australia during a conversation about PhDs and finding your life’s work. The person I spoke with was, himself, Christian. I had forgotten that the deeper-thinking apologeticists are also astute observers of humanity. Such people often have the uncanny ability to cut through you with honesty and kindness—a rarity I admire immensely.
He thought I would benefit from Unlearning Perfectionism (am I so transparent?). After two sentences I was quite rapt. Pained and relieved at once. Perhaps most current to me:
“Perfectionism endures because it has its merits, and we must see these clearly as well. It establishes a high standard and feeds on a source of intense energy, i.e. the fear of losing our identity and self-worth. So it is no surprise that some of the world’s luminaries have made contracts with it.”
Sans the navel gazing you might expect here, I will say I am focusing on excellence rather than perfection currently, with some structure along the lines of:
One alternative with a similar flavor is excellence, which differs in two respects:
- Where perfectionism focuses on achieving, excellence focuses on pursuing. Success and failure aren’t ever in our full control. All we can control is what we choose to do right now, in this moment. Our attention shifts from outcomes to process.
- Where perfectionism focuses on fixed outcomes, excellence focuses on better outcomes. Any real situation can always be improved. Since there is no perfect outcome, perfection is impossible.
And:
Process over outcomes; systems over goals; growth mindset over fixed mindset; satisficing over maximizing; professionalism over amateurism; boring fundamentals over flashy tricks; response over reaction; agency over passivity; presence over regret and worry. No matter what you call it, the distinction is the same.
I am an Associate Venture Capitalist. This is a title that, if you knew me two years ago, would make you laugh. It is, ironically, a journey of slow, deep learning in a fast environment that I am generally enjoying—-with caveats and battles, of course, as you always find in situations of love. It is not a journey that survives under the stifling gables of perfectionism. At the end, I am loving seeing this version of myself emerge.