I Am the Center of the Universe. Not.
by Z Zoccolante

A friend of mine recently moved, and as part of the moving process the landlord checked the house before giving him the deposit back. My friend had cleaned the house immaculately, but in the center of the living room was a gravy stain, trapped in the brand new carpet.

An amount was arranged and he paid it, of course, but the interesting part happened after. He kept thinking of the stain and feeling bad about it. Later that week, he had a work meeting and felt uncomfortable talking in front of the room.

He told me that he’d noticed that the stain incident, put a finger on an issue that he’d had for a while – the need to be perfect. If he wasn’t perfect then it meant that he might disappoint people or that he wouldn’t be liked.

His need for approval caused him to suffer quite a lot, because he equated approval with not making a mistake.

“Ok,” I said. “What if I dropped the gravy and stained the carpet. What would you tell me?”

“Well,” he said. “I’d say it’s fine. Everyone makes mistakes.”

*

All humans deal with this. Often we find it easy to extend compassion to others, but then withhold it from ourselves. We chastise ourselves for the same things we gently brush off one another.

Jack Kornfield said it well:
“If your compassion does not include yourself it is incomplete.”

So how do we begin to include ourselves in this compassion?

There are various great articles on perfectionism and how it wastes time, decreases productivity, and keeps us from moving forward. Google them if you’d like.

But as I was thinking of perfectionism, in relation to my life, I realized that the solution could be simple.

Every time in my life when I felt the need to be perfect, it was because I was focusing too much on me. Everything that happened in my life became a reflection of my goodness or badness. Since I was the main character of my tale, everything looped back to me, and so I took everything personal.

The simple solution is to change our perception. Instead of taking everything personally, what if we treated things as though they were business transactions.

When I used to work in the spa industry, I’d have clients come in for facials, massage, and waxing services. Although I spoke with many of them during their treatments, they were there to get a spa service, not to be my friend. They were paying for a service experience, which is a business transaction.

My friend, who stained the carpet, was paying his landlord to live there, and had signed a contract, thus making it a business transaction.

Just because something is a business transaction, it doesn’t mean that it’s soulless or cold. I’ve had wonderful, warm conversations with people who I paid for their service. Business today is a friendly kind, otherwise you probably won’t be in business for long.

When we treat more interactions from this business standpoint, they become detached from emotion, and detached from us being the center of attention.

I’m sure that nowhere in the landlord’s contract did it say, “And if you stain my carpet, we can both agree that you’re an inconsiderate, unlovable, stupid idiot.”

The contract probably said something like, “If any damage is found it will be removed from the deposit.”

It’s business, not personal.

For me, this means that when I walk into an audition room, I can show up as me and do my best. If I don’t get the role, it doesn’t mean anything about me. It just means that they wanted something different.

One of my acting teachers told me a fantastic story that I always keep in mind. Once, while casting a theater project, he was assisting the director. After one particular lady had left the audition, he turned to the director and said, “It’s her right,” as though the director would automatically agree. Instead the director threw his hand in the air and said something like, “Oh heavens no. She reminds me of my mother. I can’t cast her.”

That lady was the best audition they had for the play and yet she didn’t get cast.

I think about this story a lot because that lady might have gone home second-guessing everything she did. It might have affected her career. Or, and this is my guess, she was probably a smart one and knew that she was awesome. She probably didn’t take it personally, but instead treated her career like a business. This time, she didn’t get the job, but oh well, on to the next one, on to bigger and better things.

That’s the attitude of someone that doesn’t take things personally, but treats everything with a healthy level of business.

Forward Locomotion:

If we spent time taking everything personally, we miss the opportunity to take a step back, laugh a little, and realize that no matter what we do, or don’t do, we’re the same wonderful person.

You’re loved. You’re awesome. You’re enough.

Show up and do your best.

With Love,
Z;)

Please check out The Conscious Actor
by Bonnie Katz, MA.

It’s the best article I read this week,
with clear tips to overcome rejection.