The Silence of Perfection

Well 2020 was some ride that's for sure.

So much so, that on reflection, there was so much of it I didn't believe for myself, it was kind of hard to comprehend.

It's hard to say what happened really, my business world went to custard during the pandemic and the pressure was insane. I had clients who didn't pay bills, and the ingestion of the stress of other clients. I was in my own bunker, but somehow in so many others as well.

There was a chance opportunity to reinvent what we did, and we grabbed it with both hands, almost crazily, because there was no way I was going to lie down in this pandemic and become a statistic, there was no way I wasn't going to fight or die trying.

There's a craziness to this, and at many times I questioned my sanity but the work was important. We could figure a way to help Australians who have and will suffer at the hands of the economic disaster before us. If I am to be nothing else, I would like to be useful, helpful and loving.

It was not something that happened overnight, in fact, our foray into the social services sector took 228 days from the first meeting to our final endorsement as a solution provider. A tiring and seemingly never-ending 228 days where self-doubt kept raising its hand, the constant defence was a narrative of belief and sanity checks were a common occurrence. We backed ourselves, our team with such incredible conviction believed in what we were doing, and we stuck at it. It was brave, it was gallant and a lot of the time it felt a little insane.

We launched a solution to the sector, one designed to ensure that Australians would get the help they needed when and where they needed it, and it was good, and celebrated and saw me do my first ever National TV interview in October - my world was spinning out of control in some euphoric exhaustion, and effort that was well recognised with the exception of more tangible evidence.

Toward the end of the year, I giggled about the people wanting to interview me for our alleged success. Truth is, if it wasn't for Job Keeper, wow, I don’t even want to think. All through this time, stripped bare of all ego, we kept showing up authentically with the intention of helping others, when in fact we could have done with some help ourselves.

At the end of the year, as kind of a naturally birthed expression, I started a blog to share some very personal experiences in the hope I could also help others in a different way. At the time, I had no idea whether my musings would matter to others, but it felt real and I just went with it, there was a momentum to the madness.

Then I started getting interviewed about my blog, and it was rather surreal. I feel what I feel and think what I think but it was resonating and I found myself in grateful disbelief. I allowed myself to be truly seen for myself, and people liked it, this at times was emotional and overwhelming.

Over this break, this past few weeks, all of this was hard to take in. When I stopped and thought about it, I was not sure what to make of it.

I am also feeling through the “imposter syndrome” of writing a book, which I have been doing over the break. Not exactly straight forward as I constantly questioned, well who cares about you, your experiences and your thoughts. This was an experience that at times seriously made me regress emotionally, and it was agonising.

I don't want to stop doing what I am doing but, with a bit of space and time, it was hard to figure where I got to and how I could re-engage at the same velocity, momentum and with the same level of authenticity. I wasn’t sure how to get back on the bus. Reflection instead made me self conscious, made me question, can I do this? can what I say and do really matter as much as I wanted it to? Can I show up in 2021 and keep going, the same way, with the same raw intentions, the same unbridled honesty, the same ability to throw caution to the wind and let my heart speak so very loudly as it did before?

This is what I wanted to share. The level of self-doubt, disbelief and ownership had me questioning, do I fear success? And if not why am I so fucking uncomfortable right now.

Writing this first article of 2021, and what it would be about has been on my mind since Christmas Day. So best I can muster is just to again show up as me, share the fear of my imperfection, the trepidation with which I skulk back on this metaphoric stage and say, hi, it’s me again, do you still see me? Do you still hear me? Does it still matter?

I really do want what I do and say to matter. I want to ensure what I do is purposeful and meaningful and I have been trapped in the disbelief that this seemed to be so last year and against a backdrop of what felt like insanity I had no idea how to replicate the experience.

And then, with the help of a friend I realised. You're overthinking this, you just need to show up as you and hope that this is enough for just one person, because that is enough, you are enough.

“Healthy striving is self-focused: "How can I improve?" Perfectionism is other-focused: "What will they think?”

― Brené Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection

I mentioned in a previous article, about the stories we tell ourselves and ironically, I had those old stories playing this past few weeks. “Who do you think you are, mate?” The fact is I was caught up in what people will think of me, what will they come to expect of me and I forgot that I got here in the first place by just showing up authentically and not being too worried about that stuff.

So I have decided. That I am me, and I am here to show up as me, for myself and for others in that order. That I am someone who cares very deeply for others and if I am being true to self, then I am prepared to be judged, mocked or even ridiculed for it.

So here I am, me, and I am back, in a role with no stunt doubles, a role where I just play myself. Because it's enough.
Happy New Year beautiful people.

Much love,

Scott