I will be the first to admit that I am a confirmed perfectionist who cannot bring myself to do anything half way. Being such a person made me quite successful first as a student and then with my career. I’m not so sure that it has been as greatly appreciated in my private life. I often get the feeling that even the people who love me very much get a bit annoyed with the obsessive compulsive behaviors that constantly lead me to straighten a pen on a desk or tidy up the house twenty four seven. I belong to a group of people who are known for being tightly wound. It’s difficult for me to simply relax no matter what the situation may be. I care about everything deeply. I analyze and reanalyze every situation. It feels normal to me but seems to drive the people around me slightly mad from time to time. 

I suppose that I do indeed understand those who wish I would just chill from time to time because those who just don’t seem to care much about things one way or another often bother me. I can put up with their messiness as long as I don’t have to live with it, but when they don’t even appear to care about major events impacting the world I am totally baffled. “Meh” seems to be their operative word for any discussion of difficulties facing humanity. Part of me longs to be as emotionally detached as they seem to be and part of me feels intensely frustrated by their seeming nonchalance. I simply do not understand how they can care so little and in turn they view me as a ridiculously angst ridden oddity. 

I suppose that it really does take all kinds to keep the world running well. Perhaps such souls might teach me something with their nonchalance. Maybe I do get way too bent out of shape over issues and situations over which I have little or no power. I suspect that I overthink and over plan a bit too much. I’m so busy trying to make things run smoothly that I often miss the moments to just enjoy the people around me. I raise my own blood pressure when I think of all the problems that we humans must face. Now and again I indeed enjoy being around someone who just makes me laugh and relax, but I can’t seem to make myself tarry in such a moment too long for there is always so much to do.

My mother was much like me in her younger days but as she grew older she lost her reputation for perfection because she simply gave up the endless battle. She preferred a spontaneous drive to the ocean on a sunny day to folding the laundry and immediately putting it away. There were many times when she showed up unannounced at my home and found excuses to pull me away from my seriousness. It was as though she knew that I needed a break from attempting to save the world. 

My grandmother Minnie Bell often caused the wagging tongues of old school housewives to tsk because she often had dust on her furniture while she wandered around calling to birds. She was a fabulous cook but her home was sometimes askew. She perfected what she enjoyed and left the rest for another day which may or may not have ever come 

I suppose that I have seen a reflection of myself in my father-in-law since he came to live with us. Every single day is a repeat of the previous one with a routine that does not deviate in even the smallest detail. He won’t come out of his room without tucking his shirttail into his belted pants. I have yet to see his feet because he never appears in public without socks and shoes. I have learned to listen for the sounds that tell me that he is counting down the tasks of the day. It has taught me how unnerving someone like him and like me can be to others. There are times when I literally want to scream and ask him why he can’t let go for even a tiny bit. Then I remember that I am exactly the same way and I wonder how often I have made someone want to shake me, throw things around, purposely move that pen on the desk to a place where it does not belong.

Maybe we would all do well to have more balance in our lives. Those whose attitude is “Meh!” might put in just a bit more effort and those of us who are constantly fulfilling scheduled duties and plans would do well to just go outside and listen to the birds. Variety in our lives may be what we need to work together in a community of understanding. 

When Covid came around I discovered a new side of my personality. Because I was not going anywhere I allowed myself to dawdle in my pajamas in the morning hours. I did a great deal of reading while the chores around my home waited for my attention. I spent time talking with friends and family members on the phone. My pace was slower than it had ever been in my life and somehow it felt okay and wonderful to be that way. Sadly once we all resumed our previous lives I mostly fell back into all of my old habits, washing and tidying, worrying about what will happen next week, next month, next year, decades from now. I sometimes miss the pandemic version of me who was much more calm. 

I am older now and should be wiser. I don’t need to impress anyone with my dutiful behavior anymore. I really don’t want to be tied to a strict self created schedule of jobs anymore. I hear the ticking of the clock and realize that it is long past time for me to do the kind of things that matter so much more than having a perfectly ordered home. I want to be with my friends, especially those who might teach me how to say, “Meh!” now and again. I hear the doves on my rooftop calling me and the mountains that I so love are waiting for me. Maybe I’ll just step over the pair of shoes sitting on the floor and escape to a wiser more relaxed version of me.