Do we really have to be perfect in order to help others?
I was having a conversation with a new friend of mine (let’s call her Connie) the other day, and I learned something remarkable about her: she is a hard-core devotee and practitioner of the Israeli self defense form, Krav Maga. She loves it so much, she even started pursuing a teaching certification for it, before letting the program go.
“Wait. . . why did you stop pursuing being able to teach?” I asked. “It’s obvious that you love this stuff!”
Connie paused for a moment, looked away, and said, “well, I don’t look like someone you’d take seriously as a Krav Maga teacher.”
Now, this woman Connie is utterly charming. She’s my age, shorter in build, Asian, and an absolutely joyful ray of light (kind of like Hello Kitty!) whenever we show up to the same restorative yoga class (that’s how we met).
Connie’s energy is a delight, and after many joyful exchanges in the yoga studio, this was our first excursion into the world of coffee chats together.
So it was really cool to discover that this utterly joyful and uplifting being had this bad-ass Krav Maga side to her! Holy cats: Hello Kitty was actually a ninja assassin! Mwrawr!
At the same time it was heartbreaking to hear her say that she didn’t think she would be the kind of teacher anyone would want to study under, simply because she didn’t have the body of a life-long martial arts expert. Plus, while she knew all the moves, she didn’t have actual experience using them on anyone in a real-life attack situation. And a big part of her passion for Krav Maga is driven by her devotion to the empowerment, safety, and protection of women against violence and abuse. (She’s a super-cool gal, let me tell you!)
How many times have you thought a similar thing?
“Oh, I’d love to pursue this passion of mine…but who would take me seriously? After all, I don’t look the part. Or I don’t have the perfect experience. Or people wouldn’t want to learn from me. Or my skills aren’t worthy of being a teacher or guide for ANYONE.”
I actually hear this quite a bit from folks who contact me with a desire to become a graphic facilitator, but doubt their ability or suitableness to serve others well in this capacity. I can relate this to my graphic facilitation field. Folks contact me expressing their desire and interest to become a graphic facilitator, while at the same time, tearing down themselves and their abilities to do so. “After all, I can’t draw. Or I don’t feel comfortable drawing large scale. Or I don’t feel comfortable being in the front of the room. Or everyone else on the planet – including my cat – is infinitely more talented, skilled, and qualified to serve clients compared to lowly me.”
This is a big issue – whether we’re talking about drawing forth ideas or teaching others to open up cans of whupass – because our denial is about more than those superficial excuses.
It’s about what we believe is possible for ourselves.
It’s about whether or not we view our gifts – and our selves – to be worthy of sharing with others in this world.
It seriously breaks my heart when people choose to keep themselves small by wrapping their dreams up under layers of doubts and excuses. All those things that keep us safe from being disappointed, that keep us from taking the risk of trying in the first place, they keep us from our dreams. Most of the time they’re rooted to some comparison to a perfect standard we hold ourselves or the opportunity to. And the pain of keeping ourselves safe and small is oftentimes greater than the pain of stretching and allowing ourselves to grow.
Believe me, I know of what I speak here.
There’s a reason why I write so much about how imperfect action beats perfect inaction any day! I need to remind myself of it ALL the time. I used to be the queen of safety-precaution excuses and small thinking. Why dream something big for yourself and end up disappointed because you weren’t perfect enough to pull it off exactly the way you envisioned? If you don’t bother to try, then you won’t be hurt or disappointed, so it’s all good. Right? (Spoiler alert: No, it’s not right. It’s actually bullshit.)
So I thought about what Connie just shared with me, then asked her:
“What is it about Krav Maga that you love so much? What does it give to you?”
Connie reflected for a moment then shared a story about how she used to work with an organization that served reforming prison convicts…people who used to assault others, particularly women. And more than one convict told her – on more than one occasion – that she was exactly the type of person they would have gone after as a potential target: polite, nice, timid. Connie started taking Krav Maga to change how others would see her (as a potential victim), and she ended up changing the way she saw herself: strong, skilled, and a bad-ass mamma jamma! (Okay, so that’s how I see her!). But the training she’s received has given her so much self-confidence, and she no longer feels like a victim-about-to-happen as she walks from the office to her car. Talking about all of this, Connie glowed and spoke with utter conviction. She wasn’t a Hello Kitty ninja. . . Connie was a Hello Kitty Super Hero!
“Hmm,” I said. “All this and you’ve never actually had to kick someone in the groin?” (Apparently with Krav Maga you train to kick assailants in the groin.)
“Nope,” she said with an “I see what you’re doing there” kind of smile.
“How powerful to be able to inspire and teach women how to trust in their own strength and abilities,” I continued, “without having to look like a female body builder. How amazing to realize that I, in my normal body and normal life, can achieve this level of confidence and power. And I believe I can do it because you have done it, and you look more like me than a bodybuilder or Rhonda Rousey.”
“Hmmmm!” Connie replied, with a bigger smile.
“Perhaps,” I said, “just perhaps there are women out there in your world who need someone exactly like you, with your abilities and experience, to help show them the way to their own inner strength and bad-assitude.”
Just sayin.
And perhaps, just perhaps. . .
. . . there is someone in your world who is waiting for someone exactly like you to teach them, reach them, inspire them and guide them.
Because it’s our glorious imperfection that makes us relatable to others. It’s our passion that shines like a beacon in the night, drawing our people closer to who they seek to become. But they won’t be able to find you, to grow with you, unless you allow yourself to become visible to them. Unless you take the risk and allow yourself to pursue that passion. Write. Teach. Draw. Guide. Speak. Facilitate. Advocate. Inspire. Whatever it is for you, whatever lifts your heart up when you feel it but then brings you back into feeling small because of what you think about it, take the risk and try it out. Let yourself become as big as your aspiration. Let yourself shine and be visible. I’m telling you, there ARE people in this world who are waiting for exactly YOU to show up. Yours is the voice they need to hear. Yours is the story that will inspire them. Yours is the teaching method that gets through.
Will Connie pursue her teaching credential for Krav Maga? I don’t know, but I hope so. And if the thought of unobtainable perfection rears its ugly head like a mugger in the night, wanting to steal her Krav Maga dreams away from her, she’ll know what to do:
1) Identify that threat, 2) refuse to give it power, and 3) kick that sucker right in the junk!
How does perfection keep you from pursuing your dreams?
Let yourself go for what you want. . . and see what happens!
I cannot wait to see what you draw forth,
