This winter I’ve been reading, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life, by Anne Lamott. Anne says,

Perfectionism wil ruin your writing, blocking inventiveness and playfulness and life force… Perfectionism is mean, frozen form of idealism, while messes are the true artist’s friend.  What people somehow (inadvertently, I’m sure) forgot to mention when we were children was that we need to make messess in order to find out who we are and why we are here–and, by extension, what we’re supposed to be writing.

I think the same is true for us as gardeners. As I (try to find time to) think ahead to the planting and growing season this year, I’m trying to let go of my ideals. Of that nagging, heavy burden that is my perfectionism. And be sure, I’m not talking about formalism in the garden. I’m just talking about perfectionism.The perfect color combination, the perfect number of plants, the perfect arrangement of said number of plants and color combinations, the perfect soil, the perfect container, the perfect watering schedule, etc. I know the plants are perfections in and of themselves, and I don’t fuss too much over which variety is going to perform perfectly. (Thank goodness!) But, I still know my desire to have the perfect life, be the perfect wife, be a physically and emotionally perfect woman who knows the perfect thing to say and write in all circumstances, who makes a perfect meal, keeps an (almost) perfect house is also manifested in my desire to design, build and grow the perfect garden.

Damn, I’m exhausted just admitting it.

So that brings me back to Anne Lamott and Bird by Bird: weed by weed, seed by seed, day by day and one season at a time, I will notice when I am trying to be perfect. Too perfect. (Did you hear that? Oh, it’s going to be so much harder than it sounds.) And I will stand up, stand back and ultimately stand down from my perfectionistic nemesis, my worst self pretending to somehow be my best self.

Related posts:

1. Bird by Bird: our gardens, our metaphors and our lives
2. Build a Bird Feeder with Dad for Father’s Day
3. Useless Desires
4. Opening
5. Kieran Egan on Pre-work in Zen Gardens (and Life)