The Best There Is

48.

“You know what your problem is don’t you?” I hear myself ask. 

“You mean the current state of acceptance in the perception versus reality debate? The one where weakness is identified, isolated and the process begun for its improvement? The problem of not being satisfied with mediocrity and wanting to counter any situation with an appropriate nothing-less-than-perfect response? That problem?” I inquire. 

“Yes, that one.” 

“Is it so egregiously counter-productive to strive for an ideal, even cognizant of perfection being impossible, at least by our standard definition? Where is the harm in the earnest attempt to continually improve?” I submit to the one person judge and jury. 

“Glad you asked. Because you are never satisfied. You consider it a failure when your impossible goals lie burning on the stovetop like scorched pancakes. The reality of six outstandingly delicious ones preceding them has no weight in the analysis because you fixate on the fire. You could have produced another perfect batch but you were called away to tend to something more urgent, an emergency code-red, while the responsibility of flipping cakes temporarily moved to the back burner. One fire is extinguished as another reaches flash-point spatula man. Trying to do too much often tastes like a flash flood in a flour factory.” 

“I have heard that one before. Yes. You are right,” comes my humble response. “But how could one ever know their limit if they don’t go there and see, try it for themselves? What good am I to anyone if I shy away from the very test that will add to my GPA? And please remember rule number twenty-two.” I offer, somewhat unconvincingly. 

“Rule twenty-two?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Could you please recite it for me?”

“In any given situation where the quality of response is less than the desired result, first look at the intent. Was the motivation to be perfect or to do the best that one is capable of doing? Intention is everything. With proper intent the outcome is irrelevant, leaving no message other than to pledge relentless dedication and desire to improve the consistency of focused effort — and to accept with humility the reality that no one has yet achieved absolute perfection,” I reel off like an umpire explaining the infield-fly rule to a little-leaguer.  

“That’s some rule, that number twenty-two.”

“It’s the best there is.”