I am continuously inspired to be "that guy" who seems to have all the time and patience in the world while achieving financial success, supporting his family, being congenially available for friends, and staying mentally and physically active and fit. All while maintaining a social and political presence at the gentlemen's club each night, holding court with witty and insightful banter from the comfort of my high-back red leather chair, a 15 yr old sherry-cask aged whiskey in one hand and a smoldering Hoyo de Monterrey Double Corona in the other. "I say, sir Geoffrey, good point, old man. Bravo!" come the echoes of adulation and praise as glasses are raised to a chorus of "Here here!". In reality, my delusions fade to find me in mid-review of a long list of unaccomplished commitments being punted forward into tomorrow's unrealistic agenda.
I felt a lot of irritation and even resentment at the end of the day recently when I realized how much of my time was spent doing things other than what I intended. Some partly come from not saying no when I should have or being compelled by something shiny. Yet a good chunk of the lamenting can be traced back to that "Do your best" desire.
For example, as a board member at a local Zen center, I must be aware of and involved in many needs and decisions. I have high expectations of myself, while others seem less engaged. Who picks up their slack? In other arenas, I wrestle with communication styles. I strive to communicate every detail simultaneously instead of leaving anything to chance or misunderstanding. I don't write, "Let's meet for coffee this week', I check my schedule and consider locations so I can offer, "Let's meet for coffee this week. I'm free Wed until 12 and Thursday until 10 and can meet at Philz in Los Gatos either day or Crema in San Jose on Wednesday." I do due diligence. (yes, Bevis, I just said "do due")
Frustration and resentment built as I attempted to keep multiple plates consistently spinning atop wobbly 4ft sticks. It can unconsciously impact my actions and reactions. Then, something fascinating surfaced on my morning walk. A recollection of something I'm still working to retain a daily perspective on.
Nobody else is responsible for, let alone capable of, meeting my expectations of myself. That may appear obvious to an outside observer such as yourself. It's hard to see the picture from inside the frame. And this frame, my 'default mode network' of habitual insecurities and obsessions, is made not meanly of hardwood; in some ways, it's practically petrified, making breaking out of it a challenge.
It's a misplaced assumption that others do not care to make the level of effort I might put into something. Why would they? They're not me. I'm not them. It's not an act of disregard that they don't approach something in the same manner, any more than it is for them were I not to follow in their footsteps, to walk their path. Mine is the only path I need to mind, including whether I wander off or allow myself to be diverted by others.