The Death of Perfectionism

The more organized I attempt to become, the more I realize that I have an internal aversion to order. 
It's like an allergy. I can usually ignore it and get by anyway, but its always there, and when I am tired or stressed, it flairs up. 


Our apartment is very small. Whatever you are picturing, cut it in half. We love it- its perfect for us, but it requires a high level of organization. And a willingness to throw out or immediately give away ANYTHING that is not needed. 


So to live here, I am constantly creating systems of order. And once I have a system, I realize how much I resist it. In chaos, you can't tell. But once things actually have a place, you see in broad daylight whether or not you consistently put them in their place.


Example: We have a diaper bin in addition to a regular garbage, right next to our changing table. Good system, right? Makes sense, right?

Well, I often find myself putting her diapers (the wet ones at least) in the regular garbage- which is FARTHER away than the bin. And even though our changing table is fantastic, and waterproof, with all supplies organized and at hand's reach, I often find myself changing her elsewhere (even after a few 'accidents').


So then I ask myself the question: what good is organization if I don't abide by my own system? In other words, if I am not perfect, why bother?


And I have arrived at the answer:

There's such a thing as a B. Or a B+. I don't have to get an A+ at everything. Order (seder in Hebrew) is not my strong point. I wish it was, but G-d has given me enough points of strength- I don't need to feel impoverished if I get a B/B+ in some areas of character development. I am working on it- this is not an attempt to escape growth in my problem areas. This realization is actually a sign of growth (or shrinkage?) in another problem area of mine- perfectionism. It's taken me years to be able to admit that that life is not pass/fail, that a B in an area where I want to succeed is actually okay.


(the photo is my baby on her changing table. see, it DOES happen occasionally...)