Fine tuning, not improving

The self-help and self-improvement industries rake in money hand over fist, but lately the conversation about "improving" ourselves seems to be shifting. Good. Let's stop. Helping ourselves? Sure. Improving? Not so much.

As a coach, I see my clients as whole, complete, creative, and resourceful, and in 'new thought' spiritual teachings, we're all perfect as we are. What we consider "imperfections" are those unique character traits that make us different and special.


So--what if we just need fine tuning? 


Honestly, there's nothing wrong with us. Not really. We're human, and we're all different.

That doesn't mean we can't improve or develop skills, become better versions of ourselves, that we don't have more to learn, or explore whatever we're intrigued by. But that's not us.

We may see others as having something wrong with them, because they think differently, do differently, or believe differently than we do. But that doesn't mean it's true. And it doesn't mean they need improving, no matter how much we disagree with them.

Improving implies the need to fix, 

and fixing implies that something's broken. 

Bones break (those can be fixed...). Parts of us break down. Sometimes we say "I'm broken" to emphasize a point. Our hearts break, our spirit breaks. But most of us aren't actually broken. Being in pain isn't broken; it's a very real and important part of living. There's always possibility for something to be different, even when it feels impossible and we can't see it. We may have a belief to let go of or an old story still dictating our behaviors, but to shift these, we reprogram, unlearn, or create, not fix.

Maybe it's years of being advertised to that's turned me off to the word improved, with the endless introduction of new and improved versions of almost anything on our large and small screens, on supermarket shelves, and in our online shopping carts. Or maybe it's the underlying message that if you're working to improve yourself, you're not good enough as you are.

We don't need to be fixed. 

And telling ourselves that we do, reinforced by the words self-improvement, isn't very helpful, whether it comes from inside our heads as self-talk or from somewhere else.

We may have a few cracks, perhaps, like Japanese pottery. If that's the case, let's add some figurative gold filigree, and be a different, more complex version of ourselves. Let it change us in ways that embolden us and make us even more unique. Perfect as it was; perfect as it is. Who says a perceived imperfection isn't really perfect? It's all perception, right?

Who defines perfect in your world? 

As Leonard Cohen sang, the cracks are where the light shines through. We need those cracks, those things that set us apart from anyone else. Those cracks are like our emotional fingerprints, and they make us interesting.

I, for one, am sick of "improving" myself, something I spent my younger years doing because I never felt good enough; I often felt less than. We all have "stuff" we can work on. But improvement is a self-defeating concept. Embrace your idiosyncrasies, gain mastery over those things you're passionate about, and shed the old crap that holds you back. That's not "improvement" unless you want to define it that way. But I think there's a better description. The need to improve feels like we're motivated by something outside of us, like something we should do, not something we do because we want to-- something that comes from within.

I believe, over time, we become more of who we are, and who we're meant to be...

Ancient Gravenstein, continually
evolving to be more of what it's
meant to be.

...and as we age, in particular, and grow in experience, we gain a deeper confidence and wisdom, which also brings the gift of self-acceptance, with our perfect imperfection.

As we step more firmly into our own shoes (in my case, some might say many pairs.... but that's an aside), love--and like--yourself as you are. That doesn't mean you won't have things you want to change. But become that "more of" version. Evolve your language and use words that make you feel good. Continually fine tune, grow, and adapt. This is what makes life's challenges, hurdles, and joys far more fascinating and easier to maneuver. 

How much more can we give the world if we feel good about who we already are? How much more exciting is it to focus on something we want to do, explore, or learn, rather than doing something to improve ourselves?

Let's be part of that shifting conversation.

The depths of winter, and gratitude

Now over a year since I've posted here, what a year it was. Knowing that the only constant is change doesn't make a lot of change an easy experience. Not that change is easy; even desired change has it's challenges, and undesired change can be downright frightening, or at least, uncomfortable.

The Northwest is now in the depths of winter, but thankfully, the temperatures here don't compare to those back east. I count my blessings. In fact, our recent cold front came with gorgeous sunny days, so it's hard to complain. We had snow at Christmas -- a first in many years. Life stands more still when it snows, and everything grows quiet.

The first day of winter is bittersweet, with dreary winter weather a promise for the months ahead, but the days also grow longer and the nights become shorter. We won't notice this at first; the days still feel short, and when the skies are gray, it feels darker still. Sometimes, the weather is a reflection of my mood. Or my mood is a reflection? It's hard to tell which came first, but I know my moods are lighter when the skies are lighter.

Letting go of gloom, or... 

...gloomsday gratitude? :)

Today was a mixed bag of rain and gray skies, with a few sun breaks. I graciously and gratefully worked from home, in my cozy basement office, looking out at the evergreen flora. No makeup, no bra, sweats and slippers. Now that's a picture, and one I wouldn't post.

And, grateful is where it's at. When the gloom sets in, gratitude is a way out. Being in service to others is another, and the two are intertwined. Helping someone can be a reminder of all I have to be grateful for. For the many gifts I and so many in my world are fortunate to have. When doing for others isn't an option, though, I try to stop what I'm doing and remember all my good.

Nightmare, a younger version

Some days, my good is as simple as my statement above -- working from home, in comfort. I have a job. I have a home. How lucky am I? Not everyone can say that. I'm warm. I'm dry. I have more clothes than I can wear, more food than I can reasonably eat at one time. I have hot water and hot beverages.

Yes, 2017 was a year of change. We lost the last of our three cats, my precious white Nightmare, to cancer at just over 18. Lucky for him, he didn't know he was sick until the last week or so of his little life. He was a big presence, with paws that won't easily be filled. Forrest and I then escaped the emptiness with a cross-country drive, filling the void with landscapes.

Grand Canyon, cross-country drive

We saw family and friends, and explored destinations from Death Valley to New Orleans to the Gulf Coast. Forrest lost one of his oldest friends to suicide. I got a job, and then another job, meeting and working with amazing people. And I continued freelancing and coaching. We sailed to islands, hiked, and enjoyed a lot of togetherness that we no longer take for granted. I spent an entire week with 12 family members I only loosely know--but love--on a cruise ship to and from Alaska. And that's just part of it.

Hubbard Glacier, Alaska

I count my blessings. Every day, I write those things I'm grateful for and send them off to my gratitude partner to be witnessed. Sometimes I'm grateful for the lessons in the journey, those things I'm not proud of, the things that hurt, or anger, or give me pause. Sometimes, it's the little things -- I got through my day with no harm done. Every day, I give thanks I'm alive, I'm healthy, I have a partner who loves me, a home, family, people who care. I have learned a lot about myself over the last couple years, with un- and under-employment, and ongoing challenges. Strife is a good teacher. Even my birthday, which every year I have higher hopes for, is my opportunity to dive deep into the depths, and understand myself better. New insights, new awareness, more self-compassion.

Yes, gratitude. I'm so grateful to be here. So grateful to be able to write here. So grateful for the journey, even in the depths of winter.