Oh my God! I'm not perfect!
I always thought that if something cannot be done right or amazingly well, then it would not be much of a point in doing it. Little did I know this was nothing but an ego feeding trip of mine on which I fed for years before I came to a point of reckoning that would smash this glass of idealism to pieces and set me on a journey of keeping it simple.
I denied myself many joys in life because of the very fear that I might not be able to do something right. And the track record of my consistency in following up something through till the end was also not too encouraging in this direction. I reeked of that fear of failure which inhabits all of us at umpteen points in our lives but then affects some of us in more severe ways than others. It cripples. And it is what threw me into a hapless world of constructing castles in the sky, mansions of grandeur for me to live in and enjoy the bliss of my perfect self, far far from the maddening crowd of insipid, mediocre folks that I had to put up with everyday. I sometimes convinced myself that after all the effort of doing good and releasing my creative gifts for their happy consumption, it would go unnoticed and I would be alone at the end of the day, bemoaning my existence and the absence of my rightful due. What would I do then? Where would I go? What would I have to do to get my share of the moon and yet not see the dark side of it?
Prideful idealism. Vanity was my monarch. But I concealed that fact from the very same people I despised. I smiled at them, and then cursed them. I dreamt. Of getting there one day and showing all these morons what I was capable of. And then they would know my worth. Then they would bow down and say 'Hey it was the same guy! Wow! Never knew he was made of such stuff!' I craved for that attention. I loved the absence of it so that I could curse their existence instead of mine. I drank this poison for years. And for years I remained sick with this venom inside of me. Until I finally had to pay heed to a voice inside of me that was always there, yet remained undercover. When I hit that bottom most pit of despair that only the fall after pride can bring. Along with the vengeance of my own sins of neglect and self pity.
This time I listened. I had but little choice. "You become what you do to yourself. And if you are nothing, it’s because you have done just that", the voice bellowed. I cried. The pretentious strings of sentimentalism were tugging hard at my heart to come home to my negative self. I was caught between the truth of the matter and self deceit. They were riveted on either side of my heart, screaming and threatening to tear it apart. I panicked. But as I will always remember for the rest of my life, all I had to do was take that first step. The rest would follow. And so I stepped out. Out of that sick dark house of my vain grandiosity. Out of the despair reserved for the ill of heart and mind. Whose spirit seeks deep within for the unkindness of oneself and then turns it inside out. But I no longer live there. I have changed house long since. I dwell in a bright house of cheerful acceptance. I see the blend of those sour imperfections mixed in the purity of my spirit. And I smile a weak smile. "It will go", says my God. "But today you will live. And you will happily give. Give of yourself that I have given you. Not to garner for yourself what was not meant for you to hoard for yourself. It needs sunshine just as it needs the rain. Your day will come. In My own good time. But today you will live. You will not fool yourself about your values. And you shall not attempt to exalt yourself to My place. Lest you wish to go back whence you did come. I shall not stop you. But I will continue to love you till the end." The acceptance came with time. And it came to stay.
Today I will do the little things that make up the whole. I will turn each page to finish reading the book. I will learn each letter to know the alphabet. I will believe a little each day to comprehend faith. I will wait a little each day to become patient. And I will write each word to complete this first step of learning how to write. May God bless you and my imperfect self too.
I denied myself many joys in life because of the very fear that I might not be able to do something right. And the track record of my consistency in following up something through till the end was also not too encouraging in this direction. I reeked of that fear of failure which inhabits all of us at umpteen points in our lives but then affects some of us in more severe ways than others. It cripples. And it is what threw me into a hapless world of constructing castles in the sky, mansions of grandeur for me to live in and enjoy the bliss of my perfect self, far far from the maddening crowd of insipid, mediocre folks that I had to put up with everyday. I sometimes convinced myself that after all the effort of doing good and releasing my creative gifts for their happy consumption, it would go unnoticed and I would be alone at the end of the day, bemoaning my existence and the absence of my rightful due. What would I do then? Where would I go? What would I have to do to get my share of the moon and yet not see the dark side of it?
Prideful idealism. Vanity was my monarch. But I concealed that fact from the very same people I despised. I smiled at them, and then cursed them. I dreamt. Of getting there one day and showing all these morons what I was capable of. And then they would know my worth. Then they would bow down and say 'Hey it was the same guy! Wow! Never knew he was made of such stuff!' I craved for that attention. I loved the absence of it so that I could curse their existence instead of mine. I drank this poison for years. And for years I remained sick with this venom inside of me. Until I finally had to pay heed to a voice inside of me that was always there, yet remained undercover. When I hit that bottom most pit of despair that only the fall after pride can bring. Along with the vengeance of my own sins of neglect and self pity.
This time I listened. I had but little choice. "You become what you do to yourself. And if you are nothing, it’s because you have done just that", the voice bellowed. I cried. The pretentious strings of sentimentalism were tugging hard at my heart to come home to my negative self. I was caught between the truth of the matter and self deceit. They were riveted on either side of my heart, screaming and threatening to tear it apart. I panicked. But as I will always remember for the rest of my life, all I had to do was take that first step. The rest would follow. And so I stepped out. Out of that sick dark house of my vain grandiosity. Out of the despair reserved for the ill of heart and mind. Whose spirit seeks deep within for the unkindness of oneself and then turns it inside out. But I no longer live there. I have changed house long since. I dwell in a bright house of cheerful acceptance. I see the blend of those sour imperfections mixed in the purity of my spirit. And I smile a weak smile. "It will go", says my God. "But today you will live. And you will happily give. Give of yourself that I have given you. Not to garner for yourself what was not meant for you to hoard for yourself. It needs sunshine just as it needs the rain. Your day will come. In My own good time. But today you will live. You will not fool yourself about your values. And you shall not attempt to exalt yourself to My place. Lest you wish to go back whence you did come. I shall not stop you. But I will continue to love you till the end." The acceptance came with time. And it came to stay.
Today I will do the little things that make up the whole. I will turn each page to finish reading the book. I will learn each letter to know the alphabet. I will believe a little each day to comprehend faith. I will wait a little each day to become patient. And I will write each word to complete this first step of learning how to write. May God bless you and my imperfect self too.
Labels: grandiosity, idealism, perfectionism, vanity
posted by Ian | 9:23 AM
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