(Artwork by John Silverton)
There’s an
old adage that my husband often bandies about, particularly when giving the
children advice about their assignments- ‘perfect is the enemy of good’. This
has become my own personal mantra. More specifically, it is what I tell myself
to appease the mother guilt and feelings of inadequacy that inevitably surface
in the moments of reflection I have when my head hits the pillow of a night: “perfect
is the enemy of good. It’s never going to be perfect so don’t beat yourself up
about it.”
As mothers,
we are often too hard on ourselves, expecting to do it all. Not just do it, but
master it. We want to keep a pristine home, cook gourmet meals, be emotionally available,
hands-on mothers to our children, be desirable, intellectually stimulating
wives to our husbands, be great sisters, dutiful daughters, supportive friends
and active citizens of our community and we want to excel at all of it. Well, I’m
sorry to break it to you, but unless you've cloned half a dozen of you, the
last bit is never going to happen. You won’t excel at it all, but you can be reasonably
good at it all.
When I first
became a mother I struggled daily at it, never living up to my perfectionist
expectations, always feeling inadequate and dissatisfied, always hoping that
tomorrow I’d get it right. But that tomorrow never came. Instead, it was just
another version of today-busy, exhausting and irrespective of how hard I tried,
imperfect. Whatever strategy I tried, there would be something that came
unstuck. If the house was tidy, I felt I had neglected the children. If I’d
played with the children, the house looked like a bomb site. And so on. I just couldn't juggle it all and not drop a ball. Those feelings of inadequacy
quickly translated into high levels of stress, even higher levels of
self-loathing and predictably, depression. By the time my third child came
along, I was well and truly at breaking point. Something had to give. And it
did. After hitting rock bottom, much soul-searching and some help from those
that know, I realised that I’d been setting unattainable expectations.
Well, here
is my ‘strategy’. It’s kept me relatively sane and I’m still chugging away, so
maybe you might get something out of it too.
So the first
step is to set realistic expectations.
Deciding what is ‘realistic’ is of course subjective and individual, but is
very much informed by knowing yourself, being aware of and accepting your
limits, and having the right intentions. But more on intentions later. As a mother of 8, having realistic
expectations is the only way to stay sane
and have the will to get up every morning. It means factoring in my environment,
access to resources and support, time constraints, commitments and of course,
being prepared to throw out all goal posts when life throws you a curve ball
(in case of emergencies/unplanned events). When you do this consciously and conscientiously
, it results in less disappointment and ultimately
an increased sense of satisfaction. It also means I am more motivated to keep
on at it.
It’s also
important to set realistic expectations where others are concerned. Take your
children for instance. Your expectations of them should be individual, defined
by their strengths and weaknesses, where they are developmentally speaking and
if possible, their interests.
The next
step is to purify your intentions.
Why are you doing what you do? For me, the answer is God. I do what I do for
His sake first and foremost. I do it to please Him. I am reminded of the verse
in the Holy Quran: Say, ‘Indeed, my
prayer, my rites of sacrifice, my living and my dying are for Allah, Lord of
the worlds.’” (6:162)… This gives me clear purpose. It adds meaning to the
mundane. When everything begins in His name (bismillah), then it’s not only
achieving a worldly purpose but more significantly, an eternal one. Cleaning the
house is now so much more than a series of tedious routines- it is a form of
worship, and God-willing, I am seeking His pleasure in doing it. So if no one
notices, it’s not so bad. Because He notices. It counts with the One who counts
the most. And that’s vitally important for me. Having the right intentions
means I can get past the lack of recognition a lot more easily. And that keeps
me satisfied.
The third
step is to put your heart into it. In
other words, do it with love. It is the single most important ingredient and
the one that people will notice the most. If you are going about your day
resentfully, scowling and snarling, sighing and sulking then there really isn’t
much point. It doesn’t matter how much time you spend with your children or how
clean your house is, it’s not going to yield a positive outcome. The spirit of
your environment is a reflection of your attitude. If it’s nurtured with heart,
then it will bloom a light, loving air. If it’s not, then it will be cold, dull
and uninviting. Simple as that. Start by smiling. Then hold your tongue when you’re
angry. Practice silence. And better yet, try to give every person you encounter
every day (beginning with your own family of course) a compliment. Even a smile
is a compliment. Actually, in Islam, it’s an act of charity. How awesome is
that!
The last
step I want to share with you is alter
your perspective. I try to align my perspective daily - instead
of counting all the things that didn’t get done, I count what did. Instead of counting
my worries, I count my blessings. Of course, I don’t always see the silver
lining, but it’s about actively trying to. And in doing that, you are far less
likely to compare yourself to others, which is a big no-no. It’s also a way of
safeguarding yourself from envy, one of the most destructive vices of all.
There are of
course moments where it all gets too much, but it’s normal to feel like this
sometimes. Take it as a warning that your battery is almost flat and you need
to recharge. In most instances, a couple of child-free hours with my favourite
coffee spent in silence works a treat. The key component is to free your mind.
Stop thinking of your to-do lists, and give your mind permission to rest.
Today, I am
still striving (I prefer the word ‘striving’ to ‘struggling’). Some days are
better than others. But the difference is that I am not aiming for perfection-I
know that it’s not all going to get done. And that’s okay. In fact, that’s how
it’s meant to be. A lifelong journey that we work at every day that God gives
us breath. Another chance to renew our intentions and to do so with love. That’s
the perspective I choose. Alhamdulilah.
