I measure myself constantly. Do I measure up? Was the dinner I made tasty enough? Nutritious enough? Did I get enough exercise? Am I working hard enough to move my business forward? Cutting myself enough slack to remember that’s the formula to be kind to my family? There is always an invisible bar against which I am standing to see if I am tall enough to ride the ride of life.
Do you measure yourself as much as I do? I measure my accomplishments for sure, but I measure other things as well. I measure my mood. Is happiness the right thing to feel just now? Am I happy enough? Am I expressing my joy with alacrity?
I measure my words. Did I say that with grace? But without being a pushover?
All this implies that there is an ethereal right and wrong to the universe. That there is a big yardstick in the sky taking note of my on-course/off-course direction.
Today I pause and the break from scheduled programming. Because I just don’t buy it.
No one is measuring me but me. And I quit.
I broke the yardstick, meterstick and ruler. I crushed the compass.
I constantly break my appraisal devices with a wicked set of questions. When I question the invisible voice that demands I measure up it melts away almost as effortlessly as I broke this piece of wood with a bunch of painted lines.
I’m now allowed to laugh with abandon. Or cry without cause. I fired the one taking notes.
What altared space do you need to break to stop the silly voice in your head that asks if you’re tall enough to get on the rollercoaster of life?
If you’d like a few hints with questions to clean up the voices that beg you to constantly calibrate your performance, sign up for my open office hours this Thursday afternoon.
{ 18 comments… read them below or add one }
Good for you, Rebecca. This is one of those things I stopped doing a while back…we are our own worst critics. I’ve come to realize if I do all I do in the name of love, that alone is good enough.
“If I do all in the name of love…” a good mantra to replace the measuring stick.
This is an area I’ve gotten better at. I still do measure, but I *try* to always feel good about whatever that measurement is.
I think you’ve hit upon it. I will probably always measure. The trick is in what I *do* with that number. Continuing a practice of noticing and breaking it will serve me well I think.
Love this Rebecca. I really needed it today. I’m working on this as well and getting better, but it’s a work in progress and knowing I’m in good company and we’re all saying ENOUGH-NO MORE feels really good. I’ve also found that when I do sometimes forget, being a compassionate observer instead of beating myself up for forgetting (you see how it really can spiral) helps to ground me and get me back to my core of peace. I’ve also found that Intentional Resting by Dan Howard is a portal for me to quiet the inner critic.
I love your peace treaty! http://katerifkin.com/making-peace-with-my-body
What a kind thing to do for the battles we wage within!
Yep, I compete against myself…constantly. The toughest competitor and harshest critic are always the guy I see in the mirror.
Have you found a way to make the competition about kindness or gentleness? Maybe that defeats the point.
“I fired the one taking notes.”
I love that. And it’s so true, isn’t it? So often we are the ones holding the measuring sticks against which we judge ourselves.
I judge myself as a mother, as a daughter, as a wife, as a friend, as a writer. I used to remind myself to add positive critiques along with the negative ones, but now I try – as you reminded me – to just let it go, without evaluation. It happened. So be it.
Easier said than done, sometimes.
Easier said than done. Hence the muppet video. When I can’t help myself, at least I can laugh.
I just love this post! It’s so very true!!! and I’ve done it for years. and I love the way you write. Wish I could have “gotten” this 15 years ago!! I am passing this along.
Susan, I’m thrilled that you are here! And so grateful for the work you are doing for our military and military families.
Lately I measure whether I’m thinking or feeling, afraid or present, engaged or isolated… and if I can’t fall back asleep in the middle of the night I measure how tired I’m likely to be the next day.
I measure if I’m really doing the yoga or continuing to plan the future even in savasanna… But the note-taker and the over-doer, and the striving to helper might be as much my Shadow as my problem (or my problem/challenge/opportunity may be in how to relate to both the note-taker/measurer and who/whatever it is that seems to abide, often disinterested in the mundane measuring.
My wish is that in spaces altered such as this we begin to craft consciousness of that which abides between us, the magic that cannot be measured, and yet which we have been lead to by our measuring, seeking, questing and questioning.
I’m concerned that if we merely fire the one taking notes and kick them out the front door they’ll show up doing graffiti on our back door…
Maybe I’ll take the note-taker to poetry class, or to the park or enroll them in preschool and start over.
Ah! the in between places! bingo! And this is why altars, and sharing them with others so I have the benefit of shared eyes, is so great. You are right: my shadow has led me to the light. Making friends with the measuring me is the way to proceed. A game of shadow tag.
Since I broke my leg, I am always asking my physical therapist, “How am I doing? Am I on track?” It’s like a tic. And he always says, “Stacia is healing as fast as Stacia can,” which is infuriating and perfect all at the same time. He’s not putting me on deadlines or time frames, so why am I??
I laughed when I read this because I can so imagine how frustrating this would be for me. I can imagine myself: “but I need to know if I’m ahead or behind schedule.” Sigh. Your therapist’s way is so kind.
working three part-time jobs, i picked a fight with my partner the other night by declaring that he wasn’t pleased with the amount of outside-the-home work i was contributing to our income. i went on and on and on, oblivious for quite a while that he was just staring at me. when i stopped he smiled and said, “is it easier to cut yourself down if you pantomime me doing it? because i’ve got no beef, no beef at all with you or your work.” so then i launched into a mental tirade against myself about how i was always projecting my insecurities onto him. not nice and totally exhausting. i never thought to take the next step, though, to try to stop measuring. reading this post was a eureka moment for sure
thanks for that.
I love this.