Wisdom (ISH) - A Case of Perfectionism

It’s 4:30 AM. Lynz should be dreaming of sandy beaches and cocktails with faraway names. Instead, she’s sat on the cold stone step of Bliss Bakery, staring at a sunrise she can barely see.

Behind her ribcage, a thousand tiny ants are having an unwelcome party. Despite a "good" presentation the day before...warm handshakes and appreciative smiles, her mind is busy picking the moment apart, stitch by painful stitch. It’s a classic attack of the "Not Good Enoughs," where the shoulders meet the ears and the jaw locks tight.

In this week’s Wisdom(ish) pause, the Older Self drops by the bakery step with a bit of perspective on why we stab our own hearts with "should-haves" and how to stop treating our memories like a crime scene.

In this episode:

• The 4:30 AM Post-Game Analysis: Why we edit conversations that have already ended.
• The "Symmetrical Crust" Trap: Understanding that the village doesn't need an expert; it needs a human.
• Perfection as a Shield: Why "getting it right" is often just a high-end version of fear.

What’s Next: Join me this Sunday for the full Sleep Story. We’ll leave the "post-game analysis" and walk the lantern path through the village, moving from the noise of the mind into the deep rest of the body.

Stay Connected:

• Join the Village Newsletter: Get my Sleep Stories and Wisdom (Ish) podscast delivered calmly to your inbox every Sunday, I'd love you to join my email list: [HERE]

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:01

Hello, lovely human. Welcome to Flow Calm Still. I'm Linz, and this is Wisdom Ish. These are short pauses for thought from the village, moments where we stop and listen to our older self. It's the version of us that's already been through the messiness of life and come out the other side with a bit of perspective. Before we head into the village, let's take some slower, deeper breaths so we can signal to the body that it's okay to arrive. And as you slow down your breath, let your inhale feel like you're creating space and your exhale let go of the mental to-do list. There we've arrived. Today we're at Bliss Bakery with well, today we're with me. It was four thirty AM. I should have been tucked up in bed, dreaming of sandy beaches and half naked waiting staff bringing me delicious cocktails with faraway names. Instead I was sat on the step of Bliss Bakery, looking blankly at the horizon, hardly noticing the sunrise. I was having an attack of perfectionism again. The space behind my ribcage felt like a thousand tiny ants having an unwelcome party. Yesterday I'd given a presentation. I prepared, read, reread, corrected, and recorrected. I knew that script word for word, and at the time I felt like I'd done a pretty good job. There were warm faces of appreciation and handshakes on the way out. And when I left, I started to overthink. And now, at this ungodly hour of the morning, sat on the stone cold step. I closed my eyes and felt my heart sink. I started to pick the presentation apart, moment by painstaking moment, and maybe those warm faces were just masking yawns as I slowly bored them to sleep. The familiar whisper started. Nothing you do is ever right, Linz. Nothing you do is ever good enough. You just mess it all up. And in that moment, I'd resigned myself to the fact that everyone was just being polite. I had no idea what I was doing, and I certainly didn't deserve the promotion I'd set my heart on. Shoulders knitted round my ears, jaws locked tight. I tried to sigh and released attention locking around my temples, but I just couldn't let go. What a mess. Feeling completely defeated, I felt a soft, warm hand gently squeeze my shoulder. My older self didn't say anything at first. She just sat down on the step, her hip bumping gently against mine. She watched a single sparrow hop across the cobbles, looking for crumbs of yesterday's sourdough. You've just baked a loaf of bread to feed a hundred hungry souls, and now you're sitting here crying because the crust isn't symmetrical. I looked away, wiping a straight ear. It felt clunky, and I didn't sound like an expert, and that's what I'm supposed to be. She laughed, a soft belly, deep sound. Expert? Darling, the village doesn't need an expert. They have enough of those on their screens. They need a human. They need the crack in your voice because that's where the light gets in. Her older self continued. Is perfectionism is just a high-end version of fear. It's the shield you've been carrying around for years so nobody can hurt you. But the shield is heavy and it's keeping you from feeling the warmth of those handshakes. You did the work. You showed up where many others never do. Now you have to let that work belong to the world. You're not alone, Linz. We are all human, just trying to work things out as we go. Then she stood up and gestured towards the flickering amber glow at the edge of the bakery path. The lanterns are lit Lynns. Why don't we stop fighting yesterday and just follow the light home? And then she disappeared. This was wisdom-ish, our heart and mind anchor for the week. If my four thirty AM felt familiar, if you've ever delivered something from your heart and then spent the night stabbing it with your tabs, remember you don't need to be perfect to be worthy of the space you take up. Now, before you move on to your next task, let's take one more moment together. Whether you're driving or at your desk, take in one deep nourishing breath. I'll be back on Sunday with our full sleep story. While Wednesday is about shifting our hearts and minds. Sunday is about resting our bodies and sleep. Stay well, lovely human, and I'll talk to you soon.