Photo courtesy winterdove |
It
seems like only yesterday that I was contemplating the fresh new calendar year
of 2015, and yet here we are only four days away from 2016. In looking back
over the year, I notice that I’ve chosen to write about—and highlight
here—mostly 2015’s simple pleasures and everyday adventures—and that’s fitting
for the theme of this blog. The one glaring exception is the post I wrote about
the death of our dog. I haven’t chosen to share the details of every moment
good or bad (you’re welcome), merely the ones I thought you would enjoy hearing
about or possibly learn from along with
me. Even though I try to remain positive, and to focus on what good and useful
things can be taken from difficult or painful experiences, life is rarely ever
all good or all bad, but a mixture of both. Here’s a look back at my 2015 in
pictures and posts.
January
Interrupting winter.February
Completing a sketching challenge and Tank’s 20th birthday.
March
Appreciating the delight of little things.April
May
June
July
August
September
October
November
Photo courtesy Laure Ferlita |
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the concept of Good Enough. The painting trip to NOLA focused my attention on the concept as I created sketchbook pages that were far from perfect, but were “good enough” for their purpose: to help me remember a captivating place and group of people.
For me, that’s the biggest blessing: Good Enough is an antidote to perfectionism. How many times do we avoid trying new things, obsess over details, or become stalled by the idea that something must be Perfect, or even its cousin Really Good, before it sees the light of day? (I know this blog post could be better—I could spend hours “perfecting” it, but it still wouldn’t be “perfect.” I’ve already delayed posting it once because it wasn’t—you guessed it—Good Enough.)
The holiday season is a good time to focus on the concept of Good Enough. How easy it is to fall into the trap of searching for the “perfect” gift, decorating the house perfectly, cooking up delicious and special Christmas treats, and so on. All this on top of your regular, everyday life and its responsibilities! Frankly, that way lies madness and sitting in a corner, slugging down eggnog and biting the heads off gingerbread men on Christmas morning.
Good Enough can be excellent. Or it can be average. It’s not settling, but as author Heather Sellers writes, “It’s celebrating the truth. Good Enough means you know when to quit.” It’s up to us to decide what gets our time, resources and attention—and how much of those resources we are willing to spend. Everything we do cannot be Perfect. I’m sorry, but it just can’t be.
So how can we embrace Good Enough? By applying the three Ls:
Lower our standards. Don’t have time to cook an entire holiday meal from scratch? I know from experience that many grocery stores have really fine options for the harried holiday hostess. Can’t work out for an hour? Take a 15-minute walk. Something is better than nothing, and it will keep us in the exercise habit.
Laugh when things go wrong, or don’t quite come out the way we envisioned. Laughter is a better option than tears, and others are more likely to relax and go with the flow when they see that we’re not overly bothered by the unexpected.
Love the opportunity, love the process, love the result. Sometimes we (I) forget that life is an adventure, full of new experiences, not all of which will seem “good” on the surface. It’s all a process, leading to the result of a full, rich life.
And repeat after me: Good Enough is…Good Enough.
Has there been a time when you’ve embraced Good Enough and found the outcome was just fine, or even better than you expected?
two small brass bells into the nest, like eggs
You can barely see it, but there's a hawk on the sign! |
Introduction by Ted Kooser: This may be the only poem ever written in which a person claps the mud from a pair of shoes! Michael McFee’s poetry is just that original, in all of his books. His most recent is That Was Oasis (Carnegie Mellon Univ. Press, 2012), and he lives in North Carolina.