I cannot begin to tell you (nor do I want to admit) how many hours I’ve spent the past two days trying to change my website. I want a different look and feel and so have been working with help desks from both my hosting site and the new one. At one point I even had it switched, but realized I was going to have to re-populate all the pages, reformat all the text, and basically start from scratch.
In the midst of wasted hours, I’ve been thinking: what is the pathology present in my need for “perfection?” I want everything to be as I want it – defined, exact, clear. You’re not jumping to conclusions, are you? Thinking that maybe I’m talking about more than my website? That maybe I’m talking about myself?
OK. I admit it: I’m talking about myself (whether I want to admit it or not). My pathology made manifest. Aaaaugh! I want perfection – in work, in relationship, in parenting. I want things to be the way I want them – defined, exact, clear. But that’s not the way it goes – with websites of life.
The end of the website story? I’ve reverted back to what I had two days ago. I decided that perfection did not need to be the goal; rather, a workable site that accomplishes its purpose.
The end of my story? Not over yet, but good questions in the midst: Can I apply the same language to myself? Can I acknowledge that perfection should not be my goal?
The good news? I’m know of my own tendencies, my own pathologies. One is enough to take on in this post, but yes, there are more. The bottom line, just as with my website, I need to apply a similar level of flexibility, adaptability, and grace to myself.
I feel better already. Pathology made manifest is pathology with just a little less power. And websites that work are just a little bit more effective than those that don’t.
If you’re interested in the imperfect, but “finished” product, click here: RenegadeConversations.
