I started writing bits and pieces of that article a few weeks ago, but as I worked through it and around it, I didn’t really know where to go from the point I was at. So I left it alone and today, as I was sitting on the bed, thinking about this week and all that I had done, could have done, still had to do and probably won’t get to do, it dawned on me: the whole thing was being shaped right in front of me. This article had come full circle, had become a teachable moment and was ready to move from my mind - as unfinished and scattered thoughts- to this blog -as somewhat of a coherent story and (hopefully) encouraging hug doubled with a “I am so proud of you” whisper.
I moved from the bed to the floor as I am writing those words. This week has been a week. As I write those words, I am two days away from traveling for work, I am not packed, the house is a mess and somehow some things have fell into the cracks. Before moving from the bed to the floor, I caught myself in the teachable. I caught myself feeling overwhelmed at the thought of what was still left to do, and with that feeling my tears started to well up. But instead of whipping myself like I always do, I somehow got to a place of compassion. I somehow ended up telling myself “this week has been hard. And it is okay to cry because you have been through it. It happens sometimes when you are exhausted and through it and it is okay”. In that moment of not being able to do as much or move as fast I acknowledged that it was the best that I could do at that moment and it was okay. Lately I have been keen on evaluating what my best looks like from day to day, month to month, year to year; and lo and behold: my best is not a steady line. In fact if I had to make a graph of what my best looks like over these periods of time, I would probably use a scatter plot that will probably give me more information about where in the “doing my best” zone I tend to hoover most of the time.
As I think about my own very best, I also think about other people’s best. As someone who has long lived by the motto of “ I can do better”, I tend to sometimes approach my judgment of people’s best with the same measure. I used to think so easily that people can do better and that the bar cannot be that low until I read Brene’s Book Rising strong. There was that particularly interesting passage where she shared a story about a man that was being supported by donations from the church. And he would spend the donation on his addiction. And a couple got fed up as it seems there was no will from that man to do better. And someone ( I think Brene's Therapist) raised an interesting point: what if what that man was doing was the very best he could do?
See, we all have trauma, baggage, etc... The things we have been through in life have shaped our vision and experience of life (and other people); and, of course, we all go through life’s motions. Life is not always easy on us and there is always more we can do and we can always "do better" but as I am growing older, I am learning to recognize my limits and my limitations. I am learning about the ones that I can challenge and the ones that I have to work around. I am learning that some days, my best is getting up and going out in this world and manage to not fall apart/ break under the pressure of life. And some other times, my best is going out there, grabbing life by the ear and making it do as I say. But my absolute favorite is making hell nervous, as Sarah Jakes Robert so often says. But no matter where I stand on this vast spectrum, I am learning to understand that whatever my best looks like on any given day, it still has value, because it still took something out of me to be at the level my best is at.
So when you feel down this week, when you start beating yourself up about you doing more, just know that your best will not always be the same. And it is okay. It might not feel like much to the world (or perhaps to you) but I hope you remember that you are enough and your best is enough. I hope that if you ever feel disappointed about not being where you thought you would be, you would remember that I, a perfect stranger who shares the commonalities and disappointments of life and completely understands how bummy life can sometimes be, am proud of you and I’m rooting for you.
That’s the message and I pray it keeps you going this week.
