Being Perfect

I just finished reading Anna Quindlen's little book, "Being Perfect." While I frequently disagree with Quindlen as a journalist (she writes a column for Newsweek), I have to admit she is right on the money with her thoughts in this memoir-like book.

Quindlen claims our efforts to be "perfect" are like "carrying a backpack filled with books every single day." She urges her readers to lay this burden down, to "put down that backpack before you develop permanent curvature of the spirit." Our attempts to be perfect, Quindlen argues, actually involve little more than imitating others. All one has to do is read the culture you are a part of (what are people eating, wearing, reading, believing, etc...) and then come up with the imitation necessary to fit in, or, better yet, the imitation you will have to be in order to be judged a "success."

To illustrate this the author recounts her arrival at Manhattan's Barnard College. She arrived there in 1970 "with a trunk of perfect pleated kilts and perfect monogrammed sweaters" but by Christmas break had exchanged that wardrobe for "another perfect uniform: overalls, turtlenecks, clogs, and the perfect New York City college affect, part hypercerebral, part ennui."

What's wrong with that? In one of the most powerful statements she makes in the book Quindlen declares that "nothing important, or meaningful, or beautiful, or interesting, or great, ever came out of imitations." She continues:

"What is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself. Begin with that most frightening of all things, a clean slate. And then look, every day, at the choices you are making, and when you ask yourself why you are making them, find this answer: Because they are what I want, or wish for. Because they reflect who and what I am."

I have no doubt that I got as much out of "Being Perfect" as I did because of where I am right now in my own journey. As I close one chapter in my life and turn expectantly toward the next, I do not want to miss the best things God has in store for Donna and me because of my fear of taking a chance - of making the leap - of embracing the risk involved with living life boldly. I want to listen to one voice - to the One Voice who formed me and created me and has lovingly cared for me these 53 journeys around the sun. I need to push aside all the clutter and get back in touch with the authentic person and voice God created me to be and to have, and then step out in faith to do what I am supposed to do and be what I am supposed to be, regardless of what my family, friends, colleagues and culture - especially culture - tells me I should be or do.

Most of all, I want to listen to my Savior who said, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light" Matt 11:28-30.

As it is written, so may it be done, in my life and in yours.