Tag: Perspective

Perfect is a given–Perfectionism, part 2

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Perfectionism. The state of being perfect. In part one of this series on perfectionism, I referred to two definitions of perfectionism: 1) that perfection involves being disappointed in any aspect of our lives that is not exactly as we’d wish, vs. 2) a religious belief that moral or spiritual perfection exists within this human life. So which is it? Are we imperfect beings living imperfect lives, with the quest for perfection a crazy-making path? Or are we and our lives perfect already, just as we are? Makes my brain fuzzy, so I’m infusing a little philosophy into this blog today as I briefly explore the concepts underneath definition #2.

Not having much schooling in philosophy and/or Eastern religion, the idea that perfection already exists in the universe has been slow to dawn on me. Eons of writers, from Buddhists to Christians to atheist scientists, have expounded upon the idea that the universe represents perfection already, especially the perfection of nature. American author Alice Walker asserted “in nature, nothing is perfect and everything is perfect. Trees can be contorted, bent in weird ways, and they’re still beautiful.” Likewise, Walt Whitman exclaimed about the perfection of the universe, saying “All the things of the universe are perfect miracles, each as profound as any.” German mathemetician and philosopher Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz wrote that God (substitute higher power or source, if you wish) created the universe from infinite choices, saying “the actual world, as the result of all these claims, must be the most perfect possible.” Even fellow psychologist Wayne Dyer, Ph.D., much later to the table but inspired by the Tao Te Ching, writes “Everything is perfect in the universe – even your desire to improve it.”

Courtesy of Argonne National Laboratory on Flickr

These collective views suggest that the universe– and by definition, this includes it’s inhabitants and the progression of their lives– is already perfect. We can embrace this perfection, trusting that the overall plan of the universe is much bigger than our individual minds can comprehend. Who says our meager human brains have a handle on how things should be? In the words of Caroline Myss, “human logic is not divine logic.” At times, believing that “everything happens for a reason” and that all in our world is working out perfectly, the way it is meant to be, can open us up to feeling the boundless possibilities within ourselves. We are already perfect, even in human-scale imperfections.

Perhaps the distinction is big picture, world-view perfection, versus concrete Martha Stewartesque, perfectly-folded-napkins-on-the-exquisitely-dressed-holiday-table perfection. This philosophy says that we can take comfort and affirm our value in our implicit rightness of being and doing. The belief that, at any one moment, we are all doing the best that we can–flaws and all– has infused my entire practice of psychology. Even while it’s hard to apply sometimes in my own life. Remembering this in your daily life can be life-affirming: we’re all perfect, just as is.

Health news to heed–and not

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The buzz lately is a recently released study by Marco Narici and colleagues of Manchester Metropolitan University in the United Kingdom. Narici, like many with Y chromosomes, was sitting around contemplating women in their high heels. As an experimental biologist, Marco began to ponder the effect on women’s calf and foot muscles of long periods of time in the unnatural position required of this fashion statement. When the researchers used MRI to examine the legs of high heel wearers compared to flats wearers, there was a significant difference. The muscle fibers in the calf muscles of the high-heeled women were 13% shorter than those of the flats-favorers, and the Achilles’ tendons were stiffer and thicker. These were actual physiological changes that persisted in women who regularly wear high heels. Narici asserts that women don’t need to give up their heels. Regularly stretching the affected body parts allegedly will ease the distortions.

Who says that permanently distorting your body and causing yourself pain for fashion purposes is sexy? Ever since I grew taller than all the boys in seventh grade, I’ve eschewed high heels and prided myself on my cute flats. Let’s call for a national “Flats are Sexy” day. Maybe not crocs or bunny slippers . . .

As for the health news to challenge, the National Breast Cancer Coalition (NBCC) announced in 2008 that breast self-exam (BSE) was not a reliable tool for women to employ in early detection of breast cancer. The data suggest that “BSE greatly increases the number of benign lumps detected, resulting in increased anxiety, physician visits, and unnecessary biopsies.” After the experience of a loved one this week, I say it’s time to revisit this issue. She had a clean mammogram in January, then detected a palpable lump last week. After multiple biopsies, CT and MRI scans, said lump was diagnosed as invasive ductal carcinoma. Talk to your doctor. Learn correct technique. Research, by nature, rolls the experiences of thousands of women together in order to draw conclusions such as that made by the NBCC. I’d rather undergo anxiety and unnecessary biopsies than miss the real thing. Just my opinion.

Fuzzy dichotomies, #1

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Expectations are the subject of the second new category of posts: fuzzy dichotomies. Fuzzy dichotomies are beliefs which seem infused with truth. But introduce another perspective and my brain is suddenly clogged with dryer lint. What seemed hard and fast, absolute good vs. bad, now calls for further elucidation–to avoid perpetuating a meme.

I’ve long preached realistic expectations as a more reliable path to happiness than pie-in-the-sky wishes. Expecting the unattainable, we end up disappointed. To protect ourselves, we expect nothing and are pleasantly surprised when expectations are exceeded. However, when we aim low, we may limit ourselves or others, living the subtle bigotry of low expectations. Setting our sights on the basement becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Most of us learned as mere babes to align hope with reality. This lesson often stemmed from a coveted toy, flaunted in Saturday morning commercials. Mine was a fashion doll that magically changed hair color, from blond to red to brunette, all in a 30 second TV pitch. Barbie be damned: I wanted that doll! My hopes were dashed on Christmas day. She had slippery white nylon hair, to be colored with the enclosed markers. To color each strand evenly, I draped her hair over my fingers, which were soon bright red or yellow. The doll’s hair was clown-like at best; not even close to the enticing natural shades on those smooth fake-hair swatches from Clairol color kits on store shelves. Washing her hair out to switch hues meant waiting for her hair to dry, or I’d have a runny mess akin to the tray of watercolors after a painting session. Sigh. I got clever and stuck her under the bonnet of the hairdryer (this was a generation ago, kids, no handheld blowdryers). The heat turned her silky hair to fuzz. Double sigh.

Working with postpartum families, reining in expectations became critical. We expect a brand new baby to fulfill our hearts’ desires. When the crying, breast engorgement, endless poop, and sleep deprivation hit, parenthood ranks tops on the list of failed expectations, staying there for many parents, as this recent article in New York Magazine relates. Parents with unrealistic expectations are most likely to suffer from postpartum depression. I became a zealot for the middle ground.

Reading about the power of positive thinking brought on the brain fog. Expectations are powerful in our health. And consider the perspective of Eastern philosophies. If we embrace what is, rather than yearning for what is not, we will achieve happiness. The Pearls before Swine characters speak up on this.

A recent Psychology Today article by Rebecca Webber looked at five principles endorsed by people who consider themselves lucky. These fortunate souls end up with exactly what they want, versus settling for a mishmash of reworked wishes. The ‘lucky ones,’ according to Webber, expect more, not less. Serendipitous individuals are open to possibility from all sides, saying “yes” to life rather than “no.” They define goals in very flexible, open terms, not strict, locked in criteria. They drift off the path, unearthing surprises. And they embrace failure as an inevitable part of the road to success.

It seems that the fuzz-clearing breeze lies in the specificity of our expectations. The more tightly we define a desire, cramming it with ‘shoulds,’ the greater our risk of disappointment. If we think the party will be ruined unless Glinda shows up, we might miss a wonderful conversation with Elphaba. Broadly expecting goodness, fun, or fulfillment, vs. evil, boredom, or disappointment, we find the positive is made manifest. Perhaps our expectations simply sway our perceptions. Or perhaps we influence the situation to reap desired rewards.

Challenge yourself to expect great things, a cornucopia of satisfaction, rather than honing in on one specific kernel of your dreams. Your chances of fulfillment may soar.

The view from upside down

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I spend five hours in yoga class each week, given the luxury of an empty nest. It’s invaluable to my balance, that tenuous concept for all women–emotionally as well as the physical challenge. (I keep saying I’m going to find another way to talk about balance–we need a different term. It’s not an active enough word for the incredibly dynamic process of achieving well-being in our lives. Suggestions?)

The exercise room at my fitness center has floor to ceiling glass walls at the back. I habitually park myself near this wall, by the floor to ceiling mirrors, working to perfect my poses by glances in the mirror. Throughout the class, I’m upside down dozens of times, in standing forward fold or down dog. I’ve not quite figured out whether it’s the tempered glass of this back wall or the upside down position, but there’s a fun house mirror effect as I watch the latecomers hurry toward the room. Their legs look rubbery, feet appearing to roll along, all in slow motion. Remember Pokey and Gumby, rubber stop-motion characters from an old kid’s TV show? One of my sisters had the toy characters. They felt like those big pink block erasers, thick wires inside spongy legs. When we play-walked them along, the legs would buckle, almost bounce. This is how the people outside the exercise room appear–like elastic, stretching out slowly and snapping them backward, even as they hurry to class.

A friend found a little lizard in her bed. She picked it up to take it out of the house, and half of the tail pulled off in her hand. That creature had a choice of being caught–certain doom to it’s small brain–or being thrown off balance for awhile as it’s tail regenerated. In it’s innate lizard wisdom, the little guy is programmed to know it’s better to be imbalanced and know you’ll recover than trapped. What a shift of point of view.

Shift of perspective is a powerful tool. This week, I had two new clients come in, second time for each. At the first session, our discussions had provided such an incredible shift in the view each had of her situation. By the second week. each client felt completely past the problem. Jobs hadn’t changed, spouses hadn’t changed, family members hadn’t changed. All that had altered to solve the problem was the lens through which the problem was viewed.

Daily practice to change your point of view is a good exercise, stuck or not. Hang upside down. Try on a different pair of glasses, rose-colored or gray. Relabel loss as triumph, danger as healthy challenge, wisdom where nothing made sense. One of my favorite quotes from Caroline Myss is that ‘divine logic is not human logic.’ Perspective is often all we have control over–so control what you can, and let go of the rest.