Good, better, best: in search of perfection

Ever since our (business) coach suggested we create a newsletter I’ve had the sound of my own voice in my head, rambling about what “interesting” things I could share. I think my biggest problem will be trimming down what I write, what is it about the size of my ego that I hate to delete anything I’ve written? So now let’s get to it, money, mouth etc.

Amongst the other topics clattering around in my head recently is the concept about being a “good” person. I honestly didn’t think that this was something that concerned me, not believing that society’s definition of “good” necessarily resonated with me. I’ve never believed going to church makes you a good person, and from a very young age have been aware that good deeds were often of great value to the do-gooder, and that there was a personal reward in knowing that you had “done good”. Do-gooding frequently involves a judgement around what is “best” for people. I have, essentially, held the conventional “do-gooder” in distain.

Since becoming more aware I have known that my predominant negative belief is “not good enough” in its various forms but hadn’t realised it applied so blatantly, bluntly, unabashedly, obviously and literally to me until recently when it occurred to me that my whole life has been a continuous battle to prove my worth, my “goodness”. From writing food lists to make sure we always had “healthy” food, to making sure we never ran out of toilet paper. Not being a particularly proud housewife in the conventional way, I would hold myself accountable on a gazillion other scales, from checking we always had the best mortgage rate, bulk buying to save costs, to raw feeding the cat for her health. And that was just at home. At work I felt responsible for everything, the perfect employee who can’t walk past an issue without taking ownership of it.

But back to home, who to? Who have I been proving this to? I have long known that I could never impress my mother, and my husband is largely unaware of anything I did to this end, until I don’t do it, and certainly is not concerned about this sort of domestic trivia. It was purely and simply self-flagellation. There is, and always has been, a huge streak of righteousness through me. As I gradually came to the realisation that I had lived my entire life as a stooge to a narcissistic, and witnessing the same relationship in other loved ones, I found myself thrown into a frenzy of doubt and confusion about GOOD, BAD, and forgiveness; about whether or not I could even condemn people who couldn’t help the way they were.  If they couldn’t help it, was it still “wrong”? Were they BAD people? If I exercise self-control to NOT hurt people, and actively sacrifice myself to do GOOD, can I not compare myself to them or are they experiencing something different? Was I a GOOD person, because I didn’t behave like them? Was I even allowed to be angry with them? Of course, the answer to all that is that it’s irrelevant, but it took me a long, long journey through in the muddy reeds to realise that. And suddenly I stand gobsmacked in the stark realisation that despite being a rebel on the surface, being GOOD is exactly what my whole life has been about.

I pondered this as I lay in bed, falling asleep with my face in Sally the cat’s rump as she pushed her furry backside into my pillow that night. Feeling the softness of her fur and her gently vibrating body as she purred, I thought about Sally’s life. Her gentle but persistent quest for pleasure. Food, sunlight, warmth. Company when she wants it, solitude when she doesn’t. When Sally wants something she would tramp right over my face to get it. It’s not personal. She would never hurt me but she also doesn’t really give me much consideration at all and she is literally a bully at feeding time, fixing me with a death stare and intercepting, literally, my every step away from the kitchen. I don’t love her any less for it. It occurred to me that all spiritual teachings are essentially telling us that the best person we can be is a happy person. A happy person is one who doesn’t sacrifice what they want to please others. A happy person is one who will stand up for what they want and not worry what others think of them.

Good, better, best. For the benefit of ourselves, and everyone around us, indeed the whole universe, being happy and accepting of ourselves is the superlative of good. To do what we want, and care less about what other people expect, want or need from us. And if being a good person actually means being a happy person suddenly it’s a worthy cause!