Doing Too Much or My Mythical Best Self

Mandatory Credit: Sean DuFrene / Photographer, Marketing and Communications
Long Beach State University

[Before I begin this post, I’d like to give props to my friends, Darlene & Wes Kriessel, who inspired me with their spousal 30-day blogging challenge. Darlene’s first post on pushing through and writing anyways reminded me that I need to do the same–prioritize writing, prioritize myself, do the hard things, especially when the hard things are the things I love.  So, thanks, Darlene (and Wes too, of course).]

Last week, at the end of one of my classes, I apologized to my students for not really feeling like “my best self” all semester.  They were somewhat incredulous and asked what my best self would be (they hadn’t noticed the deficiencies that felt glaring to me, as I was staring down a pile of unfinished grading, at the end of an exhausting semester).  I pondered then laughed.

“I guess my best self doesn’t really exist anymore.  She’s who I would be if I could only focus on any one of the things that is important to me in my life: like if I only focused on being a mother to my children, or on teaching 1 class, or on my research and writing.”

It was a laughter of recognition as well as one of indictment. Guilty of doing too much. Guilty of blaming myself for “not doing enough.” Guilty of striving for perfection instead of acknowledging the beautiful humanity of sometimes just getting it done.

It’s been another semester of doing too much. I know that this is as much a reflection of passion as ambition; service as much as veiled hubris, but I also know that it comes at a cost. I can feel it in the tightness of my shoulder muscles & clenched jaws; I can hear it in the tantrums of my 3.5 year old and the “yeah, you’ve been gone a lot” of my 12 year old; I know it, in what hasn’t gotten done (research & writing) as much as what I’ve pushed through.

Next semester already looks to be more of the same, a lot of work travel, an added Chinese class that I’m taking as a student, supervising student teachers, serving on search committees, attending family events, writing deadlines, church service — the list is long, and that’s just what comes to mind at 10pm on a Sunday night. I see my image of my best self fading into a meme-like oblivion, and I know I need to let her go….or let some of these things go.

It’s easier, in the moment, to let go of the perfectionism. So, starting today, my best self is the self you get on any given day, at any given moment.  This is what I’ve got. And if you need the me that’s smiling in the picture at the top of this post, maybe you can just bookmark this page and come back to visit her here.

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