"Hey...listen..." Dylan waits until I lift my head from my knees to face him.
"forget about the expectations," he says firmly, a hand on my knee. "forget about what your dad or your boyfriend or anyone else expects, and just be. you're human like the rest of us. none of us is perfect, and all of us are perfect in our own way. but you can't always muscle yourself to perfection. your shoulders aren't broad enough to carry that weight. no one's are.
"life is crazy and you don't always have to be in control. things will all work out. i have never seen anyone learn as fast as you have. you've gotten farther in under two weeks than most people do in months. so relax. it's okay. as long as you're satisfied with you, at the end of the day, that's all that matters."
I have been gone long enough for him to run out and look for me, only to find me crouched on the ground behind the recycling bins, head buried in my arms, crying.
see, most people don't cry over spilled milk, but...this perfectionist does. i recently started working at Uncommon Grounds, a coffee bagel shop in Saratoga, which is opening a new location up in Clifton Park, five minutes from my house. and i love my job. but, being the overachiever that i am, i have given myself absolutely no margin for error.
i learned to make 'perfect' lattes and cappuccinos my first day of training, and it took me only two days before i was told i no longer needed to shadow anyone, because i knew what i was doing.
but drawing latte art is harder than it looks. and i have spent all morning agonizing over it, wasting cup after cup of steamed milk and espresso. i have poured latte after latte within the space of the past two hours, and they are never quite perfect, and Dylan, who has been training the newbies meanwhile, points out that i am getting frustrated. he's right.
he trained me last week. but the Clifton Park store opens on Monday, and while i can semi-draw in them, i still haven't gotten a perfect rosetta yet. it's not a requirement of the job, and while most people would shrug and move on and no one understands why this is such a big deal to me, i've been working at it for the past two hours, growing closer and closer to tears.
Kat suggests i take a break, so i grab the crate of empty milk cartons, and take them out to the recycling bin, forgetting my coat in the process. instead of just dumping them in the bin and coming back inside, i lean against the huge trash can, safely hidden from view, and cry.
by the time Dylan finds me, i am crouched on the ground, knees drawn up to my forehead. i can't get it perfect, and suddenly all the expectations of the past few weeks catch up with me, and yes i am having a meltdown, behind the recycle bins, over literal spilled milk.
he comes and sits down next to me, puts a hand on my knee, asks what's wrong. i explain through tears that i can't get it right and it should be perfect but it isn't and what's wrong with me because i shouldn't even care and it's stupid but i need to make it perfect.
he half-laughs. "I'm really glad you're working here, if only to break you of thinking that everything you do always has to be perfect. It's going to be harder for you than most people...because you've gotten away with being perfect for so long. but no one's perfect. and that's okay."
but it's not okay for me. it never has been. i have literally no chill.
i'm used to white-knuckling it, and the funny thing is that the harder you try, and the more tense you are, and the whiter your knuckles are....the less likely you are to be able to draw anything in your latte. you literally can not be tense and make latte art.
and see, everyone else is allowed to make mistakes, but not me. i do not require perfection of anyone else but myself. and one of the hardest things for me to adjust to over the past few days and my first week of work is that everyone's philosophy is that 'you learn by making mistakes'.
i'm not used to that. i want a list of rules, and to be told not to break them. i'm not used to making mistakes and when anyone told me to do something differently next time, i would freak out because 'oh my gosh i did something wrong'.
but no one who corrected me cares like that.
literally. you make a mistake. someone suggests what to do next time instead. and that's it. mistake forgotten. no big deal.
Dylan explains. "you can't learn without making mistakes. learning requires comprehension and understanding, and doing it wrong a few times before you get it right. that's not the same as having a list of what you expect, and then just blindly doing."
but there are so many expectations on me right now, ranging from my GPA to my conduct around my boyfriend to learning how to drive, that i have no idea what to do when i cannot force perfection.
and the worst part is...i should know this.
it's not my job to be perfect.
it's not my job to always have everything in order. to have everything under control.
he's right. my shoulders aren't broad enough, and when i try to handle everything, i invariably break under the pressure.
i can't make me perfect. but i am so used to just trying harder and gritting my teeth and white-knuckling my way into at least outwardly looking like i am fulfilling expectations, however unreasonable those expectations are.
and honestly? it is unreasonable to expect myself to make the perfect rosetta within a single day.
it is unreasonable to expect that between working 3-4 days a week and learning the ropes, i wouldn't be exhausted by the time i get home.
it is unreasonable to expect that i will be able to seamlessly integrate a job that is almost full-time into my current schedule without time to adjust to full-time work on top of full-time school.
it is unreasonable to expect myself to learn how to drive within the space of an hour...or two...or even a month, honestly.
it is unreasonable to expect myself to be perfect.
and honestly? if i drive myself crazy trying to be perfect in and of myself...
where is the room for grace?
i texted a friend this week, in the middle of a panic attack because my GPA was literally .06 less than i wanted it to be, and she insisted that i give myself grace, but what if that is something that i have no idea how to do?
and the entry in my devotional book is startling with its accuracy.
"Here is the secret of Divine all-sufficiency, to come to the end of everything in ourselves and in our circumstances"....the passage is 2 Corinthians 12:10 'for when i am weak, then i am strong'....and my eyes fall on the previous verse.
"But He said to me 'my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness', therefore i will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses so that the power of Christ may rest upon me"
i don't have to be perfect.
why?
because if i white-knuckle myself into outward perfection, then no one - not even me - gets to see God's power.
i've heard it said that perfectionism is the slowest form of suicide. but i would also add that perhaps....just perhaps...perfectionism is one of the greatest inhibitors to being able to see God's power drastically on display in our lives.
because if I can make myself perfect....if we can just try harder and get it all right... then where is our need for Him?
where is our need for His grace?
the Apostle Paul boasted in his imperfections, because if God could use such a man as himself, then He could use anyone.
because... if it isn't my job to be perfect, then maybe....maybe...i can just rest? breathe? let go of my white-knuckled control and remind myself that God is literally the only one in the universe capable of perfection?
and if "freedom will come when you lay it down", then it's beyond time i laid down the pressure to be perfect and all the unnecessary unreasonable expectations that i and others place upon me down at the feet of Jesus and just let go.
'we could be glorious if we'd just give up being gods'
because we aren't. i'm not. you're not. we are only human. and when we take His job upon ourselves, we will break because our shoulders weren't built to carry the weight of the world.
and His burden is easy because it isn't my job to be perfect. it's my job to follow Him and do my best, and, as the old Keith Green song goes, He'll take care of the rest.
'you just keep doing your best
and pray that it's blessed
and Jesus takes care of the rest'
and pray that it's blessed
and Jesus takes care of the rest'
it's beyond time that i let Him.
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