I HAD A DREAM

I had a terrible dream last night.  I don't know if any of you have had one like it, but it was a different kind of nightmare.  All night long I dreamed of making mistakes.  Everything I did was a disaster. I couldn't get anything right.

When I woke up I was thrilled to at least be able to get out of bed without falling.  It really shook me up. 

I've always struggled with perfectionism.  Even as a small child I would get frustrated that I couldn't do something right or well.  I often wonder how many things I missed out on because I couldn't be perfect at it. 

It would be easy to blame this tendency on my parents, but they were always encouraging and never chastised me if I didn't perform at the highest level as long as I made my best effort. In our house it was the trying that mattered. I remember many times when my parents would tell me that it was OK to screw up from time to time, and that everyone did. Unfortunately, their patience and understanding couldn't change who I was. I believe I was born this way. 

As I grew older I realized that there can be fun in playing a game and still losing, and that I could push through difficulties and either succeed or fail without the world coming to an end. It's interesting that now, when I'm retired and can do what I want and no one cares whether I'm good at it or not, it still bugs me when things don't turn out perfectly.

The worst thing is that if I'm not satisfied with what I'm creating I tend to just put it away and try to forget about it. When I look at my pile of WIPs I feel even more discouraged. I know that the only way to learn how to do something well is to figure out what not to do, and that only comes with failures. Leaning how to fail and still be OK with it is something I still struggle with.

One of the reasons I started writing this blog was to help other quilters who struggle with a lot of the same things that I've been dealing with for years. I tell you what's worked for me, and what I've observed about life, but that doesn't mean I have all the answers. If only I did! Wouldn't that be perfect?

It's funny that my first art related job was at a company whose logo said, "Perfect Will Be Just Fine." Wow, I wish I'd realized at the time that God was trying to tell me something.  Perfect is fine, but then again fine doesn't have to be perfect.  It just has to be sufficient for it's purpose. For some of us it's hard to make that connection. Oh, and that job and company were far from perfect, (isn't everything?).

Besides, I think we all know that perfection is an illusion. Is anything ever really perfect? And who defines what perfect is anyway? What might be the perfect pair of shoes for one person would be considered hideous for another. We all have different tastes and preferences. When you look at it that way, it seems even crazier to expect perfection from yourself or anyone. 

Last night's dream sent me through a continuous series of embarrassing moments and disasters, all of which should have been avoidable, and a lot of them not even close to being my fault. I was a victim of circumstance. Always in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was exhausting. I kept trying to get out of it but the harder I tried to escape the worse it got.

I believe that dreams can be a way to play out situations in life that frustrate us.  Sometimes there's a clarity in them that we don't want to face in the light of day. I have always been afraid of being made to look ridiculous, as I think most of us are. It's humiliating. So is failure. But then everyone is humiliated from time to time and Lord knows, we all fail too. 

Now that the intensity of the dream is fading I'm feeling a peace about it. I think that I've been worrying too much about too many things over which I have no control. I try very hard to not fret, but it keeps creeping back into my brain, unbidden and unwanted. It seems like every couple of weeks I need something that makes it clear to me AGAIN that worrying does no good, and successfully avoiding mistakes all the time is impossible. We all make them and then need to move on.

I believe now that my dream was a blessing.  I spent hours screwing up everything and embarrassing myself over and over again and yet I kept going. I should have found a cave to crawl into, but instead I went on to the next disaster and then the next. In some ways it was a catharsis especially since the people around me didn't even notice my mistakes, I was the one who saw them when no one else could. Thank God my husband was in  my dream, constantly asking me what I was so upset about when as far as he could see I was perfect. 

What it comes down to is this. Pleasing others is difficult, pleasing ourselves is impossible. We know when we screw up, when we should have said something, (or not said something), when we avoid difficult people and situations that need to be dealt with, and when we are harder on ourselves than we need to be. A lot of us work hard at accepting our imperfections, not realizing that it's those things that aren't perfect about us that often makes us lovable and creative.

I don't think I've met one quilter, artist or musician who can't point out the imperfections in their work. We know exactly where they are and unfortunately, the mistakes are the first things we see and hear. Our audience rarely notice or care. Besides, sometimes it's the subtle lapse in perfection that gives the piece it's humanity and touches our hearts in ways a perfect work could not.

Susan