I am also not a perfectionist when it comes to spelling, punctuation, math or geography. All of these make me only mildly uncomfortable or embarrassed in a world where the bar is set so very low. My vocabulary is considered extensive in these days of the Idiocracy, yet . . . I consistently speak with sound effects to fill gaps of unknown or momentarily forgotten words or names. This has gotten laughs for more than 25 years, though it doesn’t keep me very vigilant.
When it comes to arts, crafts, sewing, cooking, construction or other manual / domestic skills I am content to hit the general direction where I am aiming. Besides lacking practiced eye-hand motor acuity, I just don’t have the patience. In theory I want all things around me done well and true. In theory I want to gain skills from doing things well. In practice I am amused and delighted to dive head first in to projects I don’t really know fuckall about; that is, how to do things correctly. These are gross generalizations as I have achieved skills over my long life and my muscle memories can serve me well. I guess I am saying that I don’t let lack of perfection stop me.
Where my perfectionism hurts me is primarily in my self-acceptance. The counterpart is this is judging others with my particular weaknesses more harshly. I believe in being discerning and expecting quality. It is very difficult to know where the line is these days. I feel there is so little accountability for anyone’s behavior and this leaves me frustrated. I am too often over-reactive and judgmental inside and in my proclamations. This is an ongoing struggle. My balance meter bounces all over the place. Balance is often subjective – like my trailer’s levelness. The image at the top from Dependable Renegade fits. Right? I am chasing my shadow here because I think it is too close. I had a couple times today and lost it. I suspect I'll mention it again.