One of my toxic traits is having a problem with “good enough.” I actually hate when I hear that from my kids, and I almost never use that language for myself. If I’m going to do something, my nature is to figure out how to do it better. If I’m running, I want to beat my previous time. If I’m traveling, I want to go to the best places. If I’m working, I want to be the most efficient. If we’re spending money, I want to make sure we are spending it wisely. If we’re running the laundromat, I want to own fifty.
I am a maximizer at my core. And I’m starting to realize that probably isn’t something to brag about. What has become so apparent to me during this season of my life, as I’ve backed off from work and started enjoying my time more intentionally, is the hidden cost of this mindset that I have that everything needs to become a project. There is always something to improve. And I only have so much time.
24 Hours
We all have the same 24 hours in a day. I can only do so much. And yes, I can probably do a lot more than most people I know at any given time. I’m not exactly known for sitting around doing nothing. But there is still a limit. I don’t like to think about limitations on my time or effort. My instinct is always to figure out how to squeeze a little more out of the day. But I am still only one person. And I want to spend intentional, quality time with my kids. So how do I do that if I’m constantly trying to maximize every second of my day and every facet of our lives?
At some point, something has to give. Because every time I decide to make something better, I am spending something to do it. Maybe it’s money. Maybe it’s time. Maybe it’s energy. Maybe it’s attention. And I have a finite amount of all four. That doesn’t mean I want to stop caring. I don’t want to stop improving. I don’t think there is anything wrong with having high standards or wanting to do things well. But I am starting to wonder if everything needs my best. Maybe some things are allowed to just be good enough. And honestly, that is uncomfortable for me. Because “average” feels like a bad word for a high-achieving person. Am I really just going to be average at some things?
The more I think about it, the more I realize the better question isn’t, “How can I be the best at everything?” It’s: “What am I willing to be average at so I have more time and energy for the things that are actually important to me?”
The Problem With Optimization
I over-optimize everything. Even to a ridiculous extreme.
Take homeschooling. I recently had a rough day. Apparently, my solution to a rough homeschool day was to decide we needed to completely overhaul our homeschool curriculum. So I started researching. And researching. And researching. I spent an unknown amount of time looking at curriculum options, comparing programs, reading reviews, and trying to figure out the absolute best choice for my kids. Meanwhile, my kids are going to be fine. They are going to learn to read. They are going to learn math. They are going to learn science and history. They will probably survive whether I choose the absolute perfect curriculum or one that is simply good and works for our family.
But my maximizer brain doesn’t like that answer. It wants the best curriculum. I do this everywhere. My dad’s company has an oil field schedule that needs to be covered. I can spend an embarrassing amount of time trying to maximize that schedule. Moving people around. Looking at different combinations. Trying to make everything as efficient as possible. And eventually I have to remind myself that the company probably doesn’t care nearly as much as I do. If the schedule is covered, they’re happy. They don’t need me to create the mathematically perfect schedule. They just need everyone where they need to be. I am optimizing something that doesn’t need to be optimized.
I’m doing the same thing with our upcoming Florida trip. I love planning trips. I genuinely enjoy it. But I can take something that should be fun and turn it into a research project. What are the best restaurants? What are the best places to eat? What are the best reservations? What day should we do this? What’s the best way to structure that day? What can we fit in? What are we missing? I can spend hours trying to make a trip that is already going to be great just a little bit better. And at some point I have to ask myself: Is making this trip 10% better worth the time it is taking away from the rest of my life?
Because that’s the part I don’t naturally think about. I think about the benefit of optimization. I don’t always think about the cost. And sometimes the cost is my time. I do this with smaller things too. I can spend way too much time researching a purchase, comparing options, reading reviews, and trying to make sure I’m getting the absolute best version of something. Sometimes the difference between the best option and the perfectly acceptable option is almost meaningless. But I have already spent an hour trying to find it. The irony is that I’m trying to optimize my life while spending my most limited resource doing it.
Not Everything Needs My Best
I don’t want to become someone who just does everything halfway. I like having high standards. I like improving. I like doing things well. There are things in my life that I absolutely want to maximize. But maybe I need to become more selective about what those things are. Not everything needs my best. Some things just need to work. My kids don’t need the perfect homeschool curriculum. They need a mom who has enough time and energy to teach them. My dad’s company doesn’t need the perfect schedule. It needs a schedule that works. Our Florida vacation doesn’t need the perfect restaurant every night. It needs time together. My running doesn’t need every workout to be perfectly optimized. Sometimes I just need to get out the door and run. This sounds obvious when I write it down.
But it is surprisingly hard for a maximizer to actually live it. I don’t think the answer is lowering my standards across the board. I think the answer is figuring out where my standards actually matter. Because there is a difference between doing something well and maximizing it. And sometimes the extra 10% just isn’t worth what it costs.
What Am I Willing to Be Average At?
I think this is the part I’m still figuring out. What am I willing to be average at? Because the truth is, I cannot be exceptional at everything. Yes, I am aware that sounds incredibly cocky when I write it out. But I cannot have the best business, be the best employee, be the best mom, run the fastest, plan the best vacations, make the best financial decisions, homeschool perfectly, keep the house perfectly organized, and optimize every other little part of my life. There aren’t enough hours in the day.
And if I try, I may end up being really good at a lot of things while never having enough time to actually enjoy any of them. Maybe the goal isn’t to maximize every facet of my life. Maybe the goal is to figure out which facets actually deserve to be maximized. There is a difference between lowering your standards and choosing where your standards matter. There is a difference between settling and deciding that something doesn’t deserve more of your time. And there is a difference between being average because you didn’t care and being average because you decided your time was better spent somewhere else. That distinction matters. Because if I spend all of my time trying to make every part of my life better, I may accidentally make my life worse.
Conclusion
I don’t think I’m ever going to stop being a maximizer. It’s just how my brain works. I will probably always be the person reading the reviews, comparing the options, and wondering if there is a better way to do something. But maybe I don’t have to follow that instinct every time. Maybe sometimes I can just pick the curriculum and move on. Maybe I can make the dinner reservation without reading 47 reviews first. Maybe I can make my dad’s schedule, know that everyone is covered, and leave it alone. Maybe I can go for a run without worrying about whether it was the perfect workout. That sounds so simple. And yet, apparently, this is something I need to work on.
Because I don’t think the problem is that I want things to be good. I think the problem is that I have a hard time knowing when good is actually good enough. And I’m starting to wonder how much of my life I’ve spent trying to squeeze a little more out of things that were already perfectly fine. I don’t have an answer for this yet. I’m still going to overthink the Florida itinerary. I’m probably still going to research the curriculum way more than necessary. And I’m sure I’ll find myself trying to make something unnecessarily complicated because I can’t leave well enough alone. But maybe the next time I catch myself doing it, I’ll stop and ask whether it actually matters. Because maybe I don’t need to be good at everything. Maybe I just need to figure out what is worth being really good at.