Measuring Up
I am a Very Competitive Person.
If you know me, you know that's true. If you don't know me, or haven't seen me in a long time, perhaps more of a surprise. I am, after all, a yoga teacher. I try to stick with a regular meditation practice, too. I knit and weave and cook: lots of lovely domestic crafts. And I love quiet, to the point that I have to have some every day or I start to feel very frazzled.
But I do love to win. I love to be able to do things well, and to do them the best way the very first time out. No learning curve. Instant gratification.
I apply this competitiveness to even the most ridiculous opportunities. Once, at work, my manager and I were breaking boxes down on the day-after-Christmas return avalanche. I looked at her and issued a challenge: "Bet I can break my boxes down faster that you!" She looked me dead in the eye, just the way you stare down a member of the pack in order to remind her who is the alpha animal, and then quietly answered, "I'm sure you can." Oh, there is no prize for Best Gift Box Breaker-Downer, is there?
Lately, this winner takes all mentality is creeping into the rest of my life. Perhaps because so much of my daily work is about meeting goals, beating numbers from last year, increasing units, I bring that big-is-best, faster-is-right attitude to the other things that I do. Am I knitting fast enough? Are my projects showy enough? How many projects can I keep going at once?
Or my yoga practice. Rather than appreciating my abilities, I find myself noticing more often what I'm not. Not a gymnast. Not Ashtanga. Not 20 years old. And I think that my yoga practice is trying to teach me back. Used to be that Saturday morning classes were relatively full and Sunday morning classes were small. But lately, as if to force me not to count on numbers as a measure of worth, the Saturday classes have shrunk to four or five people and on Sundays, lots and lots of students. My yoga teacher would say that this is the trickster at work. Think you're in control? No way.
I tell my customers that sizes are just a game that the manufacturers like to play. You might be a size 6 at one store and a size 12 at the next. It's just a mind game.
What counts, I say, is how you feel. Wish I could take my own advice more often.
If you know me, you know that's true. If you don't know me, or haven't seen me in a long time, perhaps more of a surprise. I am, after all, a yoga teacher. I try to stick with a regular meditation practice, too. I knit and weave and cook: lots of lovely domestic crafts. And I love quiet, to the point that I have to have some every day or I start to feel very frazzled.
But I do love to win. I love to be able to do things well, and to do them the best way the very first time out. No learning curve. Instant gratification.
I apply this competitiveness to even the most ridiculous opportunities. Once, at work, my manager and I were breaking boxes down on the day-after-Christmas return avalanche. I looked at her and issued a challenge: "Bet I can break my boxes down faster that you!" She looked me dead in the eye, just the way you stare down a member of the pack in order to remind her who is the alpha animal, and then quietly answered, "I'm sure you can." Oh, there is no prize for Best Gift Box Breaker-Downer, is there?
Lately, this winner takes all mentality is creeping into the rest of my life. Perhaps because so much of my daily work is about meeting goals, beating numbers from last year, increasing units, I bring that big-is-best, faster-is-right attitude to the other things that I do. Am I knitting fast enough? Are my projects showy enough? How many projects can I keep going at once?
Or my yoga practice. Rather than appreciating my abilities, I find myself noticing more often what I'm not. Not a gymnast. Not Ashtanga. Not 20 years old. And I think that my yoga practice is trying to teach me back. Used to be that Saturday morning classes were relatively full and Sunday morning classes were small. But lately, as if to force me not to count on numbers as a measure of worth, the Saturday classes have shrunk to four or five people and on Sundays, lots and lots of students. My yoga teacher would say that this is the trickster at work. Think you're in control? No way.
I tell my customers that sizes are just a game that the manufacturers like to play. You might be a size 6 at one store and a size 12 at the next. It's just a mind game.
What counts, I say, is how you feel. Wish I could take my own advice more often.
Comments