Wishing you a heart full of Christmas joy!

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?

I read most of these...

I finished the last book from the Off the Shelf challenge earlier this week: Tom Piazza’s Why New Orleans Matters. Very moving and readable book about some of the reasons New Orleans is special and why careful rebuilding after Katrina is so important. From the introduction: “New Orleans is not just a list of attractions or restaurants or ceremonies, no matter how sublime and subtle. New Orleans is the interaction among all those things, and countless more. It gains its character from the spirit that is summoned, like a hologram, in the midst of all these elements, and that comes, ultimately, from the people who live there—those who have chosen to live there, and those whose parents and grandparents and ancestors lived there.”

I completed both my reading challenges on time—not that either of them was all that “challenging”—and they both served a purpose. The Vintage Mystery Challenge introduced me to some new authors in my favorite genre (Frances and Richard Lockridge, Margery Allingham) and allowed me to revisit some old favorites (Rex Stout, Patricia Wentworth and Agatha Christie). The Off the Shelf challenge helped clear my shelves a bit. (Shh…don’t tell anyone, but I’ve filled up that space with more books I’ve purchased this year!) I read some books that had been languishing there for too long and even got rid of a couple without reading them at all, hopefully passing them on to someone who will appreciate them. (See the 2011 Reading Challenge Log for a full list of the challenge books I read this year.)

I’ve considered signing up for new reading challenges next year, like this Classics challenge or even revisiting the Off the Shelf challenge to try to clear that shelf for good (hahahahaha). But I decided not to. I love reading, and I will still read for pleasure, and for research, but 2012 must be devoted to writing the book that I keep telling people I’m going to write. I can’t allow myself to be distracted by reading challenges, tempting though they are. My focus must narrow a bit, at least for now. It’s time to put up or shut up.

What challenges, reading or other, are you going to tackle in 2012?

Photo courtesy Maria Corcacas

For the Chipmunk in My Yard

I think he knows I’m alive, having come down
The three steps of the back porch
And given me a good once over. All afternoon
He’s been moving back and forth,
Gathering odd bits of walnut shells and twigs,
While all about him the great fields tumble
To the blades of the thresher. He’s lucky
To be where he is, wild with all that happens.
He’s lucky he’s not one of the shadows
Living in the blond heart of the wheat.
This autumn when trees bolt, dark with the fires
Of starlight, he’ll curl among their roots,
Wanting nothing but the slow burn of matter
On which he fastens like a small, brown flame.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. From “What the Heart Can Bear” by Robert Gibb. Poem copyright ©2009 by Robert Gibb. Reprinted by permission of the author and Autumn House Press. Introduction copyright ©2010 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.