How to know when you've crossed the finish line đââď¸
On perfectionism and the value we place on longevity. â¨
I used to be attached to the idea of longevity â of loyalty to an idea, a project, a group, a friend, a practice.
It bit me in the rear a few times. OK, more than a few times. đ
Iâm not sure where it stems from. Of course, I value loyalty, of seeing things through, sticking by people, and not giving up.
The problem is, my tendency is to put in 150%. I will hang onto the cart even while itâs bounding down the hill after someoneâs let go of the reins (can you picture it?). I couldnât stand group work in school, whether elementary school or university, because I cared a great deal about the results and when Person X didnât pull their weight, well, you can guess who usually felt compelled to make up for it. Or who was seriously ticked off.
Itâs a double-edged sword. Being hardworking and committed is a great skill set. But I have been a slow learner when it came to boundaries, deciding what is worth my stress, and knowing when a project is complete. Now, Iâve written before about How I Learned Not to Trust Myself when it comes to launching into projects without considering how I might feel about them later. So, between my endless idea generation and my being a recovering perfectionist, you could say I have this way of creating a perfect storm for myself.
I used to think being a perfectionist was a strong trait of mine. That is, until I became a mother and I could no longer keep up to my own standards. Iâve told many people that my mantra in this stage in my life became âFinished is better than perfect.â But then I faced a new question:
How do we know when something is finished?
Letâs go back to longevity. There is this notion, I think, that some people (myself included) have been attached to that dictates there something has a greater value the longer you do it. Think of thirty-year career jobs. Some people love them, others feel stagnant for many years before they retire. Think of that group youâve been part of that you really donât enjoy but you feel like you need to participate just because you always have. Or that fitness regime that doesnât feel like itâs working, but itâs the one youâre comfortable with. Or that blog youâve been running for eight years but, really, youâve been ready to throw in the towel for two.
How do you know when youâve crossed the finish line or where to draw it for yourself? Or, maybe you crossed it months ago, and you know it, yet youâre still running the race?
How to Know When Itâs Time to Move On
Looking back at my own track record and personal experiences, this isnât expert advice, but hereâs what Iâve landed on:
Have clear, reasonable goals for the things youâre committing yourself to. That way you have a sense of when things are no longer serving you. Of course, be ready to evolve and change those goals (thatâs natural!)
Learn to quiet yourself so you can hear. A lot of over-achievers, people-pleasers, and âdo-ersâ have a go-go-go way of being. If we learn how to slow down and listen to our bodies, I think they give us clues about how weâre really feeling about our commitments. (I could write a whole Field Notes about the times I ignored the warning signs and majorly burned out).
Consider the value of ending things on a high note, even if it means cutting your commitment short. I think deep down we know when things are starting to slide. At times itâs worth sticking it out a bit longer, but if you find yourself unhappy with your commitments, it might be time to make your exit (go back to #1 here!)
Be honest about your Fear of Missing Out (FOMO), which may be dictating whatâs driving you. Our modern world is designed to make you feel this way. Itâs so freeing when you can choose to ignore it.
Heed the red flags your partner, family, or friends are showing you. Maybe you complain or vent about something a lot. Bless my husband for the times heâs stared at me straight in the face and told me I need to change something, accept it, or walk away.
Accept that youâre not indispensable. It can feel that way, and public perception may also hold us back. But, honestly, people often donât even care as much as we think they do. And if they do, I hold onto this, âThose who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.â (Bernard Baruch)
Is there anything youâd add to the list?
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âWith clear eyes and ferocious honesty, Meghan Ward weaves together the hopes, struggles and joys that accompany her journey beyond the âstandard 9-to-5â, and the quest for a life more true to her inner compass. In an age when long-standing societal assumptions about life, work, career and family are increasingly questioned, Lights to Guide Me Home offers a spark of possibility, a reminder that the act of untethering and leaping towards the unknown â never easy or simple â inevitably brings us closer to the things that really matter in life.âÂ
âBruce Kirkby, author of Blue Sky Kingdom: An Epic Family Journey to the Heart of the Himalaya
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