Two other comments got me thinking about how perseverance is really an antidote to the curse of perfectionism that poisons so many of us with creatively-formed brains (isn’t that a nice way of saying it?).
On the comment board of “Dear God: On Praying, However Imperfectly,” reader Melissa writes this:
Thank you for writing this. Just last night, I ran across Mary Oliver’s beautiful poem about praying, and it moved me and inspired me into sitting quietly and launching into a heartfelt prayer of gratitude….and then my mind wandered, and my stomach growled, and the cat did something cute, and I lost the train of my thought, and… You get the picture. I feel like such an amateur at this God/belief/faith thing after so many years of feeling unworthy of His attention (much less His love). Your essay, though, helped me see that my attempts to pray are better than nothing at all.
And on the message board of “Perfectionism: Ring the Bells,” reader Lisa writes this:
I’ve been “moping around” since my Mom died a month ago, knowing that the moping is justified but also facing new and unwanted childhood and adulthood monsters ie: perfectionism. Mom raised me with one eyebrow down all the time so I’m constantly looking over my shoulder waiting for the “look” of disappointment. How powerful a force it has been all these years. Reading such articulate descriptions of how perfectionism is affecting us has struck the deepest cord of my depression.