Some people I know carry pictures in their wallets. My husband is one of them. He has a picture of me in my wedding gown placed next to a picture of our older son. I'm sure that as soon as we print them up, he'll have a picture of our younger son in there as well. I don't carry pictures in my wallet. I carry them in my head. Unfortunately, they are pictures of a different nature. I find that most people carry similar pictures with them everywhere they go.
My guess is that these pictures tell a lot about a person, and I even suppose that there is a general kind of picture for each of the six Personality Adaptation types. Personality Adaptations theory was developed by Paul Ware and Taibi Kahler, with contributions from others, and further expanded and written about by Vann Joines and Ian Stewart in the book Personality Adaptations.The following is based on my experience and may not apply to others, but I'll share it because I think it may: I hold in my head what I figure is a picture commonly held by people with the Responsible Workaholic adaptation. I'll dig deeper into personality adaptations in future posts. For now, I just want to get this photo out of my head. I refer to it as Picture Perfect.
Photographers and their crews go through great lengths to get just the right picture, be it of a model in the season's newest look or of ice cream on a bright sunny day.
Ice cream on a bright sunny day, of course, drips and doesn't photograph well. So what you're likely to see as you flip through your favorite food magazine is a mouth-watering picture of a sunny-weather-tolerant substitute, Crisco perhaps.
Ever replace ice cream with Crisco? Not so mouth watering.
The picture in my head is related in large part to my home, after all, my work is in my home. I used to get my house as clean and straight as I could get it. And then I'd light some candles, sip a cup of tea, and take a mental image. I felt really good about myself as I wished my home (and I) could always look and feel that good -- "catalog good".
Slight problem: A picture-perfect home, a studio in essence, is a poor substitute for a joyful home.
I'm not the only person who has these images of how things should look: A desk drawer, a closet, a car interior, a wallet, an outfit. "There's a place for everything and life is not right unless everything is in its place!"
With that picture and that mindset (that one's home, or one's things, or one's office reflects on who one is) comes anxiety. What if someone catches me with something out of place? What if I go to get something and it isn't there? What does it mean about me if I can't keep it all together and just right?
Enter children.
Have you ever enjoyed watching your child transform out-of-date sofa cushions into a cutting-edge rocket ship, destination: Jupiter? Have you ever taken the freshly plucked weeds -- urm, flowers -- and accompanying dirt your son just brought you and left them on the table, where he wanted them to be placed? How about train track and road pieces? Ever step over their precise placements for days? I have.
I love it.
And I love ice cream. Ice cream drips, life drips, childhood drips ... enjoy it while it's there! I'm letting go of the picture. I'm letting my house drip. Most importantly, I'm not apologizing as I invite you inside.
So bring your own wet wipes and feel free to leave your picture at the door: life in motion is a lot more fun!
(Perhaps of Interest: PSA: Perfectionism Strictly Abandoned; Marriage and Perfectionism)
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4 comments:
Amen.
Thank you for my first Amen!
Amen from me too! I so agree with you on this. I would love to have that perfect picture house, cleaned and ready for photographs, but really if I spend all my time cleaning and worrying about the house being clean am I missing out on just having fun with my kids and watching them grow and explore the world around them?
Shall we throw in another "amen"? ;)
My girlfriend, the mother of my child, a professional photographer, has problems photographing our 2-month-old (nearly) baby girl. Firstly this is because she doesn't like the flash, the red-seeking-beam-type-thingy or the camera itself thrust into her face, and as such, she has a tendency to screw up her face when confronted with such. Secondly... how does one capture the essence of this perfect, but infinitely changeable little girl? One can, of course, take a sequence of photos, through which one can perhaps capture more of her essence than with a single image. Still doesn't quite cut the mustard, though. What about all the bits in between? And so on.
And then I think... well... photos (of one's nearest and dearest, at least) aren't *meant* to capture essences, but rather to serve as catalysts, triggers to one's memories, so one's mind can fill in the gaps.
I have still, however, created a space in my wallet for whenever we get around to capturing, uploading and printing off "that perfect image"!
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