I’ve been thinking a lot lately about metrics and the tools we use to measure ourselves. The trigger for this stream of thought was the discovery that my home scale (a notoriously fickle beast that spends months being reliable and then sneaks in curve balls) and the gym scale do not agree and the difference is significant enough to make me ponder. Shortly after this we began the annual review process at work and I had to examine the goals that were set vs. the goals that were met. It made me realize that I have a lot of metrics; at home, at work, in the gym, in my art studio, in my head, on paper, in my family. I’ve been sorting through which ones are inflicted on me by others and which ones are self-inflicted and while doing that it struck me that I spent the last few years paring down my metrics based on which ones add value to my life while trying to eliminate those that are inflicted on me.
I have some metrics that have numbers, like the scale I step onto, the fitness equipment read-outs, my bank account balance and the kids’ grades, and others that are less measurable but just as important, like the individuals who I use as feed-back meters for my artistic endeavors or the kudos I get from people who matter to me. The ones with numbers are nice because they are not personally vested in making me feel good and I appreciate their objectivity even while I am cursing them. The feedback from the people who I hold in high esteem and who I trust to be honest with me depends on both what they and how I hear it, so it’s not a very objective system but on some days it holds more sway over my self-esteem than the others.
I think the key to serenity is understanding which metrics are important, which ones are self-inflicted, and which ones add value. The work related ones are important to me because they pay the bills and right now I am gaining a lot of personal self-esteem and validation at work because I have a boss who likes the same Type-A go-getting traits that led other bosses to reject me. My home metrics have shifted over the years; I don’t measure myself in how much I clean my house or how often I cook dinner or whether the laundry is always put away the same day it’s cleaned. This means, of course, I’ve stopped using my mom’s metrics and I’ve developed my own, learning to differentiate between a metric inflicted on me versus one I chose for myself. I think recognizing this is a key point to serenity because it’s my feeling that women are generally susceptible to trying to spread themselves thinner as the realize they can do more and in the course of doing that, unconsciously absorb onto themselves metrics that others have put into place. For example, hosting family gatherings, throwing large birthday parties, participating in fund raisers or being “the one” who always plans the social events at work. Not everyone becomes conscious of how their self-expectations are occasionally based on the expectations of others but the difference between choosing these and becoming consumed by them is the difference between enjoying them and resenting them. My metrics have shifted through the course of my adult life and I can feel my acceptance of these newer metrics as well as my commitment to them. I think one of the benefits of being a mature woman is that I have the clarity and personal insight to make these choices for myself and I’ve learned to know how to decline metrics that others impose and I’ve learned enough about myself to recognize those which will push me in ways that feel rewarding.
The next challenge with metrics is over commitment because you want to do so much more. It’s easy for driven, type-A’s to achieve a goal and then set the next one higher or to find life-work-play balance and then decide there’s enough room for one more activity. Along those lines I’ve spent the last few years paring down the metrics in my life to the ones that add value to my life while also trying to avoid selecting more than I can handle. The very nature of people like me is that forward momentum is part of feeling alive and stagnation feels like wasting unexplored opportunities. And yet, failing to achieve goals because I don’t have the resources is just as self-damaging as stagnating. I am a work in progress and before I commit to new goals, I force myself to examine the impact it will have on my stress, family life, and health in order to avoid over commitment. I also ask myself, “What’s really in this for me? Does it add value to my life?” And finally, if I’m tapped out and still feel like I’m stagnating, I have to let go of old metrics in order to make room for new ones that will help me maintain forward momentum.
Since life balance is one of my metrics and since 4 days out of 5 I think I’ve got this figured out, I’m giving myself a gold star for successfully setting up my metrics. Today, if I get the urge to add a new metric I’m going to pause, take a deep breath and bask in the glory of recently meeting some metrics instead.
I have some metrics that have numbers, like the scale I step onto, the fitness equipment read-outs, my bank account balance and the kids’ grades, and others that are less measurable but just as important, like the individuals who I use as feed-back meters for my artistic endeavors or the kudos I get from people who matter to me. The ones with numbers are nice because they are not personally vested in making me feel good and I appreciate their objectivity even while I am cursing them. The feedback from the people who I hold in high esteem and who I trust to be honest with me depends on both what they and how I hear it, so it’s not a very objective system but on some days it holds more sway over my self-esteem than the others.
I think the key to serenity is understanding which metrics are important, which ones are self-inflicted, and which ones add value. The work related ones are important to me because they pay the bills and right now I am gaining a lot of personal self-esteem and validation at work because I have a boss who likes the same Type-A go-getting traits that led other bosses to reject me. My home metrics have shifted over the years; I don’t measure myself in how much I clean my house or how often I cook dinner or whether the laundry is always put away the same day it’s cleaned. This means, of course, I’ve stopped using my mom’s metrics and I’ve developed my own, learning to differentiate between a metric inflicted on me versus one I chose for myself. I think recognizing this is a key point to serenity because it’s my feeling that women are generally susceptible to trying to spread themselves thinner as the realize they can do more and in the course of doing that, unconsciously absorb onto themselves metrics that others have put into place. For example, hosting family gatherings, throwing large birthday parties, participating in fund raisers or being “the one” who always plans the social events at work. Not everyone becomes conscious of how their self-expectations are occasionally based on the expectations of others but the difference between choosing these and becoming consumed by them is the difference between enjoying them and resenting them. My metrics have shifted through the course of my adult life and I can feel my acceptance of these newer metrics as well as my commitment to them. I think one of the benefits of being a mature woman is that I have the clarity and personal insight to make these choices for myself and I’ve learned to know how to decline metrics that others impose and I’ve learned enough about myself to recognize those which will push me in ways that feel rewarding.
The next challenge with metrics is over commitment because you want to do so much more. It’s easy for driven, type-A’s to achieve a goal and then set the next one higher or to find life-work-play balance and then decide there’s enough room for one more activity. Along those lines I’ve spent the last few years paring down the metrics in my life to the ones that add value to my life while also trying to avoid selecting more than I can handle. The very nature of people like me is that forward momentum is part of feeling alive and stagnation feels like wasting unexplored opportunities. And yet, failing to achieve goals because I don’t have the resources is just as self-damaging as stagnating. I am a work in progress and before I commit to new goals, I force myself to examine the impact it will have on my stress, family life, and health in order to avoid over commitment. I also ask myself, “What’s really in this for me? Does it add value to my life?” And finally, if I’m tapped out and still feel like I’m stagnating, I have to let go of old metrics in order to make room for new ones that will help me maintain forward momentum.
Since life balance is one of my metrics and since 4 days out of 5 I think I’ve got this figured out, I’m giving myself a gold star for successfully setting up my metrics. Today, if I get the urge to add a new metric I’m going to pause, take a deep breath and bask in the glory of recently meeting some metrics instead.