Perfectionism And The Wolf In Sheeps Clothing - Part 2

Sometimes I notice myself angered by those who seem to lack initiative and drive. It’s not my intention, but the ramifications of a deep-seated resentment dwelling beneath the surface. A disdain for those who abdicate the empty pursuit of perfection and are brave enough to relinquish their inner critic. Or, maybe it’s not a conscious effort at all. Perhaps it’s not a decision but simply a wound they never sustained.

Is that truly possible? To grow up with healthy surroundings and never pick up that chatty hitchhiker. You know who I’m referring to don’t you? That incessant, nagging voice forcing you back to the grindstone towards an ever-shifting ideal. One that’s vague and non-descript, one that only reveals the next steps after the current ones are climbed.

Are we simply to trust this? That the pursuit will eventually lead us to satisfaction. That one day, we will achieve enough, have enough or, be enough —to justify our existence. This constant need for progression, these endless goals and tiresome fights. Battles we can win, but a war that we have already lost. Some games you can lose just by playing.

These efforts aren’t entirely futile, we should all strive to be the best versions of ourselves, right? But the line is thin and difficult to draw. Intentions can be hard to decipher, especially when they are our own. Sometimes it can feel as though our ego is taking us for a ride, lashing out in self-defence and baraging us with constant tasks to obtain evidence that we are in fact, enough.

I often wonder, am I completing these assignments out of love or hate? Am I fueled by fear? A need to meet others’ expectations, a belief that only the infallible can be loved. But if this is true, does that mean nobody is? Everyone makes mistakes and we all have our flaws, so why treat ourselves as an exception? Why hold ourselves to this impossible standard?

It isn’t necessarily what we are doing that is the problem, but instead, the reasons why we are doing it in the first place. A virus that spreads as we look to others for approval, one that can only be remedied by accepting ourselves for who and what we are without separating ourselves from our dreams. To move forward not because we are not good enough, but to give ourselves the gift of fulfilling our purpose and walking our path.

This state can only be attained by letting go of our perceptions of what is good and bad, to free ourselves from dichotomy while embracing duality. These fundamental laws exist, there can be no doubt about that. But we need not rank, categorise and compare ourselves constantly. This only leads to suffering, a suffering that many never escape. Most succumb to this endless pursuit of perfection, driven by the idea that they will eventually get to a point b.

The cliche says that it isn’t about the destination but the journey, yet I pose there is no destination altogether. Only, imagined pitstops along the way, each carrying the promise of a better view to behold while blinding us to the present moment. Possibility may exist in tomorrow, but isn’t tomorrow also only a possibility? If all that captivates your mind are the next steps, how to progress to the next level or achieve the next goal, I am afraid you have lost the reason along the way.

Life is not to be lived as a series of never-ending challenges, it is not so much a game with objectives or levels, but an open-world sandbox where you get to decide how and what you contribute to make your life and the world around you interesting and beautiful. Unfortunately, the meaning of life is so simple it is rejected by most who come across it. The meaning of life is to live, to exist, to be and to explore. It is both inconsequential and immeasurably important, devoid of any inherent meaning yet meaningful in so many ways, it is not to fight duality nor dichotomy but rather to simply experience it. For the rules are what makes the game worth playing, and a game without rules is no game at all.