It's funny how an everyday, seemingly insignificant event can change a person's perception on life.
After many years, I have realized something about myself. I'm a fixer. Not cars, not computers or plumbing, but people. Absolutely nothing goes without my notice. Sad person? Make them happy! Worried? Let's calm those fears! Scared? Ahh, there are no monsters under the bed. Little problems, big problems, it doesn't matter,there is a solution to every problem and by golly, I'll help find it. It is the right thing to do and I'm one of those people obssessed with doing the right thing.
I'm not just your average fixer, either. I am hard core. Just ask my husband how many animals, causes and even people have been drug home by me. The man is a saint when I look back and realize just how many times in 25 years he has sucked up my need to fix something and been gracious enough to view it simply as my being a "good hearted person". He has gracefully sacrificed both financially and personally for me in my quest of ridding the world from any negative activity. He just accepts it because it's the right thing to do.
You see, in my own little world, everyone needs to be happy. Mickey Mouse, Barney, and The Cleaver family from Leave it to Beaver REALLY know how to live. No hurt feelings, everyone is mannerly and kind to one another. Everyone does the right thing, all the time. Life is so grand, it's disgusting by many peoples definition.
Now you might think this is a nice trait to have, trying to be a perpetual ray of sunshine, righting the world from wrongs, but it has recently come to my attention as to where a huge source of my everyday stress stems from. It really drives me nuts to have things "not right". Whether it is someone not being full of bliss at home or even a complete stranger who is down on their luck, this compulsion to have everything perfect comes at a cost.
The way I came to realize this odd, compulsive aspect of myself came about a few months ago while consoling a friend who was having a rough time. It hurt my heart that she was depressed so I decided to give one of my best pep talks. Oh yea, we were going to get rid of all this undeserving misery my friend was feeling. Turn that frown upside down! The sun will come out tomorrow! Everything will be just fine, honey. This whole conversation went on via Face book chat, back and forth and back and forth.
Trying to help paint a realistic picture for her and ease her worries, I typed in the words "Perfection does not exist". I hit "enter" and suddenly, the words just sat there on the screen. I stared at those four words for what seemed like hours. It hung in the air like a cloud. "Perfection does not exist" I read over and over and over again. I wrote the phrase for her, but somehow it kept echoing back to me. It was the oddest feeling to sit there looking at something that had sprung from my own fingers, yet it appeared so foreign. I said the phrase out loud and something clicked.
The past two years have held a multitude of challenges, losses, and life changing events for me and my family. As much as I desperately tried to fix things, it all seemed to avalanche. No matter how much I smiled, did nice things, helped someone out, I could not stop the slew of unwanted life events that were unfolding. With no breaks between these events, that feeling of helplessness climaxed a few months ago when my beloved dog Timmy again started to have seizures. He spent two days having Grand mal seizures about every two hours. I slept on the couch to help him through these horrific episodes. I had very little actual sleep during those two days.
When I went to work the next day, my boss stood there looking at me strangely. She said "Amy" and looked at the floor. Confused, I said "What?" She again looked at the floor in front of me. I looked at the floor and still it did not register. The lack of sleep must have affected my thought process because I started to think, "there must be a snake down there!"
Roberta is one of those very kind, gentle hearted people. She will give the "gentle nudge" to call attention to something that could be considered a delicate situation. She finally lifted her eyebrows and said "your shoes". I looked down, and sure enough, like a beacon blazing through the darkness, was one brown shoe on my left foot and one black shoe on my right foot.
I stood there staring at my feet. Exhausted, overwhelmed, and feeling helpless from life's recent trials, I had a flash of pure mortification. Oh my gosh, I look like a fool! Oh no, I made a mistake! Oh heavens, my boss hired an idiot! The mask of goodness, correct decisions and happiness were ripped from my face. What on earth would June Cleaver think of this horrendous debacle? Could the floor please open up and swallow me whole?
Suddenly, in my minds eye I saw the words "Perfection does not exist". Hmmmm. "Perfection does not exist".
Shit.
I started to laugh. "Perfection does not exist" ran through my mind again. "I'm really wearing two different color shoes" I thought.
Fully realizing I was sleep deprived, I made sure I didn't let loose with the laughter that was in my heart, but in my head, I relaxed. I mean, I really and truly relaxed. All of this pent up responsibility I felt to save the world of every woe flew out of me like a thousand doves taking flight into the heavens.
I cannot stop life's miserys from happening. Life is not perfect and a person can only do what they can do. I am not perfect. Never have been, never will be. Perfection does not exist. So what if the dishes sit in the sink for a while? Who cares if someone chooses to be mad at me? If I don't get the A on that Essay, the world will not fall off it's axis. It's really okay that perfection does not exist.
Now don't get me wrong, I really do like to try to be a nice person, do the right thing and help people but I have come to realize that I cannot save the world nor do I want that responsibility. That's pretty darn presumptuous and impossible, anyway. I actually feel a little ashamed of myself with all of the "helping" I've done over the years. Albeit well intentioned, in a way, it's easy to ask why on earth I would ever think I possessed such super powers that everyone would even want my help?
Sometimes life throws each of us a circumstance that we can control, others not. The difference is how we receive each of these events and our willingness to accept them.
For all of you fellow world savers out there, and if you read this through, there is a good chance you're one of them, I wish you the gift of looking upon your feet and finding one black shoe and the other brown.
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