So it was pointed out to me today how long it’s been since I’ve actually written a blog post. Yikes. Quite a while. What was I doing all that time? Riding the wave baby. The wave of a fresh graduation. The wave of having a brand new job in the field that I graduated in and the freaking miracle of that. The wave of managing a new job while having two strapping teenagers, a husband, house … maybe my wave was, in fact, more of a tsunami than I realized. But now? Now I’m cresting the curve of that tall, wall of a wave and heading towards the sweet spot of the ride that we all wait for.
I don’t know about you but I’ve got high standards. Tsunami high standards. And when I don’t meet those standards I tend to stress out. In fact, my own dear husband said a few months ago that he was waiting for the crash. I equate that to when you are smacked off the board and dashed under the wave that you thought you were riding so well. Now I’ve only experienced this in video and pictures but I’m going to continue with the surf metaphors any way. He saw what I couldn’t – that I was on the road to burn out.
I didn’t see it. I didn’t see that the wave was coming down. I didn’t see that the board was slipping under me. All I saw was the tsunami of my high standards swelling up behind me sucking force from the ocean floor and ready to confirm what I’d long suspected – I wasn’t going to make it. I was going to get pulled under and in to the weeds. That after all my hard work it wasn’t enough and I wasn’t going to succeed after all. That trying to reach those standards would never be enough. No wonder the hubby was ready to call the rescue squad.
However – we do have a happy ending. My tsunami finally receded in to a hurricane. A few months later it was downgraded to a tropical storm. I was still losing the board once in a while and the water was choppy, but I was staying above water more than I was drowning. Now? I’ve crested the curve, the feet are firmly on the board and I can honestly and earnestly say I can do my job and do it well. That’s not to say I don’t weather the odd storm but it’s a squall. A blip. A “minor weather disturbance” as the meteorologists are fond of saying. I still have a lot to learn but the most important lesson I’ve learned so far? Standards are something to push you to do better. They aren’t there to submarine you. They are there so you don’t stop trying. Why don’t you come in to the water? The weather is looking mighty fine.