Progress, Not Perfection

Today is my birthday, not my bellybutton birthday, as they refer to it in AA, but my sobriety birthday. It’s a day I truly appreciate and embrace, unlike my other one, and it always invites me to sit back and reflect.

AA is known for many sayings, like One day at a time and Easy Does It, but the one I love most is Progress, not Perfection. It reminds me, not just on my sobriety date but every day, that the journey I’m on is not about doing it perfectly, but doing it, one day at a time, to the best of my ability. The journey is the point, putting one foot in front of the other is what really matters.

Such wisdom extends far beyond recovery. It applies to our work and our relationships. It speaks to parents and children, alike, and also echoes across every pew of every faith community in the land, or at least it should.

My fear is that we’re surrounded by an endless call for perfection. Sports announcers always ask whether an athlete is the “best of all time,” as if to imply anything less is a failure. Such a perspective is found elsewhere. It seems as if everyone measures the people, places and things of his or her life in much the same way. Perfection has become a drug, one that clouds our vision and pollutes our hearts. It rises above like an insurmountable wall, leaving those of us standing below with no other choice but to quit and walk away.

What a gift to be told that life is about progress, not perfection. Suddenly, there’s hope. Suddenly, there’s breathing room for those who are doing the best we can. Suddenly, we can be the best good-enough parents we can, best good-enough co-workers or friends, and best good-enough people of faith. The wall becomes a gate, welcoming us to enter and walk beside one another as fellow sojourners. 

It’s such a special gift, a life-giving gift, one might be tempted to call it perfect. I’ll just call it divine.