Progress, Not Perfection

The picture above is not my typical beautiful nature scene or calming atmosphere. However, it was created as a pretty good representation of what each day feels like right now.

I feel like my nervous system has been stuck with one foot on the gas pedal and the other on the brake. In trauma-pattern terms, I feel stuck in a combination of flight and freeze. And it has felt this way for a very long time. Let me share an experience when this pattern became very visible.

I was visiting Bear Lake and enjoying some time in the sun. To get to the beach required walking along a lengthy boardwalk that wound through tall bushes, so you couldn’t really see anything but the path ahead of you, nor go in any different direction.

As I was returning from getting something out of the car, a snake decided to pop up between two boards directly in my path. I was quite startled, and since I’m not exactly a fan of snakes, my legs and feet decided to run as fast as they could.

The problem was, I didn’t move in any direction.

So, there I was, running as fast as I could in place until the snake finally slithered away.

It was the strangest feeling to desperately want to run away from something and yet be unable to move from that spot. I give credit to my body because it sure tried. And I am also grateful for those tall bushes that prevented that ridiculous scene from being viewed by anyone else.

Now when I think about it, I find myself laughing almost every time. Yet even today, I often feel like I am still on that boardwalk—feeling afraid, trying to run away, but going nowhere.

That’s why I love the image above. It feels like such an accurate description of how I have been feeling. Like my nervous system is constantly buffering, trying to decide between running or freezing. So, it just gets stuck in a state of feeling only partially online.

The thing is, I wake up every morning with such good intentions: eat healthily, exercise more, focus on work, get organized, stay present, meditate, be kind, etc.

Then before I know it, I am confronted with a list of things to do, trying to force myself to be productive while stuffing food into my face to avoid the discomfort of the fear I feel because I think I’m failing at life.

It is such an exhausting way to live.

I’ve written often about removing masks, being authentic, and living in the present. But sometimes I feel like a hypocrite because of how often I am still driven by fear or shame. Yet I keep reminding myself that life isn’t meant to be free of fear and shame. They’re part of being human, and there is no magical “fix” that will make them go away.

At times, I feel this almost insatiable need to figure out how to fully control life. Otherwise, I shut down or go into complete crazy mode trying to control whatever aspect I can. Logical thought seems to disappear, and I become completely fixated on the problem at hand.

My true nature knows the best way to deal with this is to take a step back, trust myself, and allow things to unfold just as they are. But if I’m being truthful, I’ve been resisting that practice.

I know that I can do it because I’ve done it in the past. But it’s also unfamiliar territory, and I find myself reverting back to complete chaos where I somehow feel most comfortable simply because it’s what I know.

So for now, I’m going to focus on one phrase from the image above:

Progress, not perfection.

I think it’s very appropriate that those words are on a mini sign in the background, almost obscured by the darkness, because it’s a difficult one for me to remember and yet is the most important.

Progress doesn’t have to mean giant leaps forward. It can be as simple as closing my eyes, taking a breath, and deciding what very small step to take next.

Or maybe it’s as simple as taking my feet off both pedals and allowing myself to idle for a bit without needing to know what comes next.

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The raw moments that unfolded before this reflection were captured in Lotus Moments. If you’d like to read them, click here.