I spent a lot of this year contemplating surrender. I plan to spend a lot of the next surrendering.
The first thing I’m surrendering is my writing. The first step in writing is slaying my ego. Focusing on myself - my abilities or lack thereof, my success or lack thereof, my anything - is a monster that will never be satisfied. Slaying my ego is vital yet impossible, so I must acquire another paradigm.
Slaying my ego = difficult to impossible
Surrendering to the designer of the cosmos because he is worthy = yes and amen!
I was afraid of looking like an idiot, so I did nothing, like an actual idiot. The perils of perfectionism are many: secrecy, self loathing, fear of being known, paralysis, an inability to grow and develop as I was designed to. All of these are a fulfillment of failure, exactly what perfectionism is so afraid of. I was so busy being afraid that I missed an essential truth: what I am designed for is all that matters. I must abandon the pursuit of goals assigned to me by those - including myself - who do not know me well enough. I choose surrender to a higher calling, one in which my imperfections are not counted against me as condemnation, in which my success is not created or won by me or even for me.
So here I am. Being sent. Not at the beginning of a journey, but in a continuation of it, a dramatic shift, a public proclamation and offering of it. Imperfect as it will always be.
A book I was writing back in 2016. Paralyzed by perfectionism.