Most of us are familiar with the phrase, “Choose your words wisely.”  This advice customarily pertains to a speaker who seeks to enlist confirmation, participation, or assistance from another person or a group.  Choosing words that are pleasing over ones that are adverse will create a favorable atmosphere and increase the likelihood that you will get what you want.  The same wisdom holds true when you are speaking to yourself, and ultimately presenting your requests to the Universe.

Now, we have all heard this at least a million times.  Most of us understand the concept that you “catch more flies with honey than vinegar,” particularly when the ‘flies’ are other people.  Using words that convey a sense of respectfulness sets a vibrational tone for cooperation, whether you are speaking to another adult or a child.  For me, it has always been easier to be more mindful of the words that are coming out of my mouth while speaking to others than it has been when ‘talking to myself.’

Choosing affirmative language is elemental when seeking to enlighten and expand your perspective.  Replacing habitual self-talk that perpetuates a mundane view of your own reality is a good place to start.

Almost ten years ago, I was given the most powerful set of words that I continue to use today.  I was in the midst of designing and constructing props and scenery for yet another one of our local middle school musical productions.  I had done this type of volunteer work for years.  I recall this particular production because this was when I developed a burgeoning aversion to gratuitous work.

I had only myself to blame.  Before I became a full-time stay-at-home mom, I had spent a few years designing and painting murals for residential clients.  By the time that our youngest child, Natalie, was born, motherhood and child care had taken precedence and I eventually eased out of the mural business completely.  Since our older children, Katarina and James, were involved in their school’s musical productions, it seemed natural and fitting that I would lend my artistic experience.

Being that I am a former member of the all-or-nothing crowd (coupled with the fact that I was a neurotic perfectionist when it came to my artwork), one season of painting a background set for Natalie’s kindergarten program escalated into five years of comprehensive set design for every full-length production from Cinderella to Peter Pan and beyond.  These were some kick-ass sets.  And I had become an overworked lunatic.

By the time that “Pajama Game” was in production, I knew that this would be my last season of volunteer madness.  For the first time in years, I was beginning to acclimate myself to a new perspective on imperfection.  It was just a middle school play.  There were no theatre critics in the audience who were going to offer me a job on Broadway.  Awe and admiration from teachers and kids were no longer compensating for my frazzled state.  Kat had moved on to high school already, and Jim was not even in the play.  I had to ask myself why in the hell I was subjecting myself to this thankless job.  My answer was that I had committed to lending my assistance to this production, so I would see the project through to its completion and learn how to say “No, thanks” the next time.

At this point, I just wanted to “get it over with.”  The feeling of  indifference to my artwork was foreign to me, but it seemed a welcome alternative to the standards of perfection that I held myself to in the past.  This is when I met Jean.

Jean’s eighth grade son had a role in “The Pajama Game” production.  She had kindly volunteered her time to help me finish painting the remaining windows on the background for the factory scene, as well as any other final work with the props and scenery.  Jean owned her own interior design firm and was well equipped to provide the experience necessary to hasten the process of project completion.

Perfectionism was not on our agenda.  I welcomed this new volunteer work ethic with more enthusiasm than I would care to admit back then.  Had Jean shown up prior to this particular time in my life, I know that I would not have been as receptive (and appreciative) of her attitude.  This was not a paying gig.  We both had plenty of experience in delivering client satisfaction on projects in which an artist is compensated for their time and attention to detail.  This project was not one of them.

As we worked side-by-side that afternoon, there were several occasions when one, or both of us, would step back to assess our progress.  This is when Jean gave me the infamous words that I still use today.  With a smile and a tone of certainty she would say, “It’s exactly what we needed.”

When we ran out of paint for one of the walls, mixed a new batch from what was available, and noticed that it did not quite match the original tone, she squinted her eyes, turned her head toward mine and said, “It is exactly what we needed.”  I had to smile.  When we realized that the shading we had just painted on one window pane did not quite match the light source on an adjacent window, we spent a brief moment glancing back and forth between them.  Knowing full well that it was not quite right, Jean proclaimed, “But it is exactly what we needed!”

This became our favorite expression for the rest of the day.  We finished the set.  It was not even close to my previous kick-ass standards, but it was far from shoddy.  The kids liked it, and it was definitely above-average for a middle school production.  More importantly to me, it was done.  It was exactly what we needed.

These powerful words have remained among my repertoire of productive self-talk ever since that day when I first heard them from Jean.  It is still amazing to me how this simple phrase can effectively shift my perspective regarding minor circumstances that occur throughout daily life.  Former tendencies to focus on inconvenient details only served to lead me away to a perpetual state of discontent.  Using the words, “this is exactly what I needed” has essentially allowed me the freedom to appreciate the perfection of imperfections.  Any notable inconveniences are insignificant to what is ultimately the ‘big picture’ of my life.  It is the overall big picture of my life that requires my full attention, and not so much the imperfect pieces that comprise it.

If you are a detail-oriented personality with perfectionist tendencies, I salute you.  You are forever honored as one of my ‘kind’.  If your skills are required as part of your job,  I hope that you are handsomely compensated.  You deserve it.

However, if you should find that these choice words serve to improve your perspective within the circumstances of your personal life, then you can thank Jean.

Tags: artistic experience, favorite expression, perfectionism, perfectionist tendencies, powerful words, productive self-talk, stay-at-home mom