"Looks like somebody's got a case of the Mondays..."

For those of you who haven't seen the movie Office Space, that's a quote early in the film, where the secretary is needling the main character for not being chirpier as he comes into the office. He has just battled stop-and-go traffic, ducked-and-dived to avoid seeing his slimy boss, and skulked into his cubicle only to be aurally abused by the sound of a colleague on the phone. (It's a hysterical film, and I highly recommend it for some silly late-winter fun.)

I love that quote because it captures so succinctly the feeling that so many of us have at the beginning of the week (or sometimes throughout the whole week!). We are all so over-committed, and over-to-do'ed, and overwhelmed, that it's easy to be consumed with unceasing dread about all the stuff we have to do...
Now some, maybe all, of us have felt like that little kid above... maybe we're feeling like that right now. I know that "ugh" feeling, and it can be palpable.

But one of the magic tricks that I picked up years ago that has helped me cope better with that "ugh" feeling is this: reframing all of the things I feel I have to do, into things that I get to do.

It's a small mental shift but can have a powerful effect on how we perceive the day and week and tasks ahead. It reminds us that we are lucky, even if only in a small way, to have the opportunity and the ability to do the things we do.

I don't have to review my P&Ls, I get to review them because I am in the happy position of being a CEO of two successful business and have a powerful brain that enables me to decipher numbers. I don't have to take my daughters to nursery, I get to take them there because I am the lucky parent of two amazing children and have a healthy, functioning body that enables me to walk fast while pushing a stroller. I don't have to get back in touch with a client, I get to email them because I have worked hard to develop a strong reputation, and people trust and want to work with me.

Do you see how the energy changes almost immediately? Very quickly we can go from feeling put upon and burdened to feeling lucky and energized.

That's the power of what we "get" to do.

Now I know this may not work every time, and there are many, many things that just have to be endured (life's not about being in our "happy place" all the time). BUT, if we can change the way we feel about what's ahead of us, even just a little bit, it makes that thing just a little bit easier.

Little shifts, little energy boosts, little mental reframings.

They all add up over the course of a day, a week, a lifetime, and can help us to become do-ers instead of complainers, and to feel activated (maybe even a bit excited?) instead of deadened.

So the next time we catch ourselves dragging our feet, hitting the snooze, moaning about what we have to do, let's remind ourselves that we get to do it, too. And not everyone is so lucky.

​Like some of you perhaps, I have a complicated relationship with exercise: I love doing it, but I hate getting started (it really is true for me that the hardest part is showing up). So this year, I set myself a challenge to exercise/move with intention five days a week, and I am pleased to say that I am now into a six-week streak of - you guessed it - exercising five days a week. 

So how did I trick myself into doing it? (Because I did have to trick myself, make no mistake about that...) Well, I stopped fighting myself, and decided to make exercise easy. Instead of hyping myself up to go to the gym for epic all-or-nothing two-hour sweat fests, or talking myself down when I inevitably missed the mark, I exercise most days at home using free videos on YouTube, do one run a week, and one chin up session at the gym. That's it. (PS - I can out chinup most of the brawny guys at my gym, so take that!)

Am I going to beat any world records this way? Hell no. But that's not the point. The point is that I am doing just enough to stay fit so I can clear my head of all the drama and angst around working out and focus all that mental energy on my two main priorities instead: my work and my family.

Or to put it another way, I am taking the heptathlete approach to life: being the best I can be at a chosen few things, and being just good enough at everything else.

Because that is what life requires: acknowledged and intentional tradeoffs, not all-or-nothing chest thumping bravado or obsessive obsessions with "balancing" everything perfectly. Because there is no balance. Only choice.

And you have to choose what very few precious things will get all of you, and decide that all of the everything else will have to settle for good enough. Reality. Harmony. Sanity. Not so-called balance.

Or, as I like to put it: enlightened swagger, instead of just swagger.

​In these early months of any new year, many of us are often thinking about goals and targets and ambitions for the months ahead. And as someone who got switched on to goal-setting and planning relatively late in life (in my early 30s), I have gained a lot of trial-and-error/trial-and-success experience with accomplishing goals. 

In the past few years, I ticked off two of my biggest "bucket list" goals (publishing a best-seller and being invited to give a TED talk), hit a massive business target, and got some high-profile PR coverage, so I have some recent data on what happens when you finally accomplish the thing - or things - you've been wanting to accomplish for a long time. 

But let's start with what doesn't happen when you accomplish a goal: The heavens don't suddenly open up and rain down good fortune, everything you touch doesn't automatically turn to gold, clients/investors/potential-partners who once rejected you don't come begging on their knees to win you over, your poop doesn't start to smell like roses, all of your health/wealth/relationship problems don't disappear, happiness and fulfilment don't come streaming through your door on a daily basis, you don't achieve overnight stardom/wealth/wisdom/popularity/etc. And - to put it quite simply - everything you built up in your mind about what it would mean to be an author/on the cover of a magazine/on a TED stage/etc doesn't match up with reality. Or to put it even simply-er: your life doesn't change very much at all.

So why bother achieving anything?

Because here's what does happen: you become better, smarter, stronger. You learn how to push yourself, you dust yourself off after the nineteenth rejection and get back out there, you stay in the game, you learn what you are made of, you learn what you are not made of (and this is okay, essential even, to any success), you learn who your friends are, you realize that the things you thought you wanted might not be the be all end all of your existence, you learn new skills, you encounter and overcome new challenges, you find a way through the deepest and darkest parts of yourself, you learn, you grow, and you learn and you grow some more. 

And sometimes - only sometimes - the wealth/fame/fortune/popularity/begging from those who previously turned you away/feeling of being on top of the world does come along with your accomplishments. But not always. And it doesn't always stick around. 

So don't choose your goals based on what you think the outcome will be; choose your goals for what they will make of you to achieve them. 

Or to put it another way: the goal isn't really the goal. Who you become along the way is.

"If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself..."

Ahhh, the Perfectionist's Creed. I love these words because I can predict with almost 100%-accuracy how many leaders and entrepreneurs and high-achievers and change-makers (like you!) have them playing in a loop in their heads pretty much all day long. (I know I would need to call on some high-order math if I wanted to count the number of times I've said or thought that.)

No one can close a sale as effectively as I can. No one can negotiate as well as I can. No one can market as well as I can. No one can pitch as well as I can. And you know what else? No one can make doctor's appointments for our family as well as I can. No one can order groceries as well as I can. No one can tidy up as well as I can. And no one can take out the rubbish as well as I can, either!

Isn't it amazing that I can do so many varied tasks better than any other of the 8-billion-plus humans who live on this planet or the few hundred thousand who live in my immediate vicinity or the tens of thousands who specialise in each one of these discreet tasks, or the other adults in my family? Gosh, I really must be amazing!

Right?
 
Now hopefully you see what I'm doing here. Hopefully you've had a little chuckle while reading the preceding lines not just because of how ridiculous they are when you see them written down but because maybe you recognize some of that silliness in your own way of thinking.

I get it. We love to be in control. We love to get things done. We love having things done our way. And we are really, really, really good at some things, maybe even a lot of things. But perfect at all things? Is that even possible?

The more I think about it, the more I hear it from my clients, and the more I try to train myself out of it, the more I see self-proclaimed perfectionism as something quite different: laziness and anxiety in disguise.

Let me explain.

First of all, I think we can agree that doing anything "perfectly" is basically impossible because "perfect" is subjective. What I think is perfect, others might think sucks, and what they think is perfect, I might find seriously flawed. Perfect is a standard that we define and our definition will inevitably be different to someone else's.

Secondly, perfectionism is often used as an excuse for not doing something - "Oh, that website, will never be as perfect as I want it to be, so I may as well not build it"; "My business will never be as big as I want it to be, so I'm not going to start it"; "This marketing campaign will never capture everything I want to convey, so why bother planning it" - OR perfectionism is used as an excuse to keep doing everything yourself because you can't be bothered to TRY to delegate to someone else or TRY to find someone who might be able to do it at least as well as (or maybe even better than... gasp!) as you can or TRY to have a difficult conversation with a colleague or a partner about how they can contribute or improve.

Perfectionism maintains the status quo - you either don't do something or you keep doing everything - and the status quo is, well, lazy.

And perfectionism keeps you from addressing your (often baseless) anxieties. "It has to be perfect or people will never buy it"; "No one will execute my vision as perfectly as I can"; "If I don't do it, it won't ever get done"; etc, etc, etc. Do you see how these perfectionist anxieties can hold you and your life/career/relationships/health/everything back?

Do you think Richard Branson comes up with new business ideas AND does the marketing plan AND does the pricing AND chooses the words for each ad AND makes the coffee? No!

Do you think Sara Blakely turned her product into a billion-dollar business by sewing each item of Spanx herself AND building her website AND shipping her products AND ordering the paper clips for the office? Hell no!

So why do we? Why do we think we can grow a business or a career or a life while doing everything ourselves? Why do we hold ourselves back by deluding ourselves that we are the exception to every rule of success - and sanity! (delegate, leverage, focus on what you're good at, test and iterate...)?

Are we really perfectionists? Or are we being lazy? Are we really perfectionists? Or are we just anxious?

Done is better than perfect. Trying is better than worrying. An imperfect reality is better than a perfect theory. Get something out there and improve, iterate, and - dare I say it! - perfect it, later.

​Many years ago, I met an early-stage business owner who was quite literally working himself into a heart attack and seeing nothing of his family because - as he put it - "I want to build a legacy for my family."

And it hit me then, and it hits me now, as I see so many others make this same mistake. That is: ignoring the very people or things they care about, while telling themselves what they are doing is for those people or those things.

And I get it. As humans with drive and vision and ambition, we want to build and grow and change the world. And through all that building and growing and world-changing, we can lose daily sight of what is important forever, and what we have right now.

We can forget to enjoy our snippets of free time while we work hard to buy back our time. We can squander precious opportunities to be present with loved ones in our pursuit to build a legacy for them. We can forget who we are doing all this for - or why we are doing it - while they, or it, are right in front of us. 

Getting the balance right, however we define "right", can be a struggle. There are always trade-offs to make and priorities to juggle in the precious minutes we get each day. But in our frenzied minds and hectic days, let's remember that we can be content with what we have, without being complacent about what we still want.

And let's remember who or what we are doing all this growing and building and achieving for. And protect and cherish it along the way.

Back in the early days of starting my first business, I had some pretty ugly moments. I would find myself looking around at the other founders I knew and wishing for a piece of their action. There always seemed to be someone else doing more, making more, and achieving more than I was. And when I wasn't careful, those comparisons would deflate me and cause me to wonder if I should just give up and throw in the towel.

Maybe you've felt that way, too. Maybe you've watched friends, colleagues, family members, someone else do something you've wanted to do and hated them for it. Or maybe in the face of their success you've criticized the trade-offs they had to make along the way ("I would never give up my social life like they have..."). Or maybe you've just cursed your own "bad luck" and left it at that.

Believe me, I get it. Achieving things is hard. Succeeding at things we care about is hard. And when you're climbing a hill, it's so easy to look at others and think of how much easier/better/luckier they have it, and then to want some of that for yourself. And despite the fact that it's pretty universal, we're never taught how to treat our comparisonitis. We're never given the tools to manage our envy responsibly.

But like so many things in life, envy doesn't have to be bad. It's just a feeling. A signal. And it's what we do with that feeling or signal that makes it "good" or "bad."

When I found myself in my envious-woes all those years ago, my partner said to me: "It's normal to be jealous. But what can you learn from other people's successes that will help you create your own?" And just like that, I was given a formula to turn something potentially ugly and destructive (envy) into something productive and helpful (ideas/stimuli for progress).

Jealousy is okay. But we don't have to wallow in despair and self-pity when we see others being successful. We don't have to see their success as a reason to give up on our own. (There is enough success out there for all of us.) We don't have to quit just because someone else already did what we want to do. And we don't have to stop just because someone else is ahead of us.

We can choose to be inspired instead of jealous. We can choose to open up instead of shut down. We can choose to see a role model instead of a rival. And, most important, we can choose to use our envy to fuel us and drive us instead of stopping us in our tracks.

It's not easy, but it can be simple. We can use our envy for good.
​

People often ask me about the things I learned at the CIA that I bring into my role as a CEO and advisor to other executives, and one of the most valuable lessons is this: a deeply-ingrained awareness that there is always so much we don't know.

You see, at the Agency, we'd often get pilloried in the press for perceived failures and balls seemingly dropped. And we could never defend ourselves - or shout about our victories - because our work is classified. We had to let the press and the public believe their version of the "truth" because we couldn't counter it with our classified facts. And we had to celebrate our wins in the shadows.

And what that taught me about being a leader is that no matter how good, how thorough, how much we think we know, there is always, always, ALWAYS something hidden from us (even if it's not classified). And because that is true, we have to remain mentally humble and open to being disproven. We have to become learning leaders who acknowledge that we don't know everything. And we have to accept that sometimes our version of the "truth" may be seriously flawed because of all the facts we don't have access to.

But instead of feeling despaired by this, we can turn all that we don't know into a source of strength. We can recognize that good ideas can come from somewhere else. We can recognize we don't need to have all the answers. We can recognize that the unknowns can be a source of power if we let it be. Because instead of pretending we are omniscient, we can invite others to correct us, challenge us, or simply expand us by all that they know that we don't. And we can become better, smarter, stronger in the process.

It's so tempting to think our power has to come from being all-knowing; but real power comes from accepting that we don't and then training ourselves to become all-growing instead. 
​

​Almost a decade ago, I was having lunch with a dear friend and we were half-laughing, half-crying about our inner nerds. I was bemoaning my need for “gold stars,” and it was then that my friend said what has stayed with me all these years: “I get it dude, it’s your Lisa Simpson complex. I’m the same.”

Now for the unfamiliar, Lisa Simpson is a cartoon character who is endearingly obsessed with perfection and good grades, with being the archetypal “good girl.” And my friend’s comment has stayed with me all these years because elements of my “Lisa Simpson complex” still infect so many big and small aspects of my life, and it’s something I have to work hard to keep in check. (But her comment also reassured me that there are other “Lisas” out there… maybe you’re one too!)

Now, part of me is proud to be meticulous and painstaking about things that are important to me (good grammar, ordered P&Ls, folding my clothes just-so… you have to have standards, so they may as well be good ones!), but part of me also recognizes that there’s a reason “pain” is 36% of the word “painstaking,” because too much Lisa Simpson is no good. It is painful. And it can be destructive. And it can give too much power to people or things outside our control.

And it is only with a lot of practice and the perspective that comes with time (I won’t say “age” just yet) that I have finally started letting go just a little bit of my once-near-obsession with getting gold stars and being “perfect” in all aspects of my life.

I know I will never NOT care what other people think of me, but I have started to be selective about whose opinion I DO care about (Are they qualified to have an opinion? Have they been in the ring themselves? Or are they just haters raining down popcorn and peanuts from the cheap seats?). I know I will always want some actual or symbolic gold stars, but I have started getting better at giving them to myself. I know there will be times when I look at my businesses or look in the mirror and only see the things that need “fixing,” but I have started getting better at focusing on what is amazing and beautiful, too.

As high-achievers, I think sometimes we put so much pressure on ourselves to be everything to everyone and to do it all perfectly, often by a standard of perfection or performance that someone else has given to us. And I get it. Wanting to be “the best” is hardwired into my DNA. One of my favorite stories about my mom goes something like this: When she was around 8 or 9, she came home from school bawling her eyes out, shaking with sadness. Her grandfather — my great-grandfather — rushed out of the house terrified by her distress, and asked her what was wrong. Through sobs and snot, she told him it was because — wait for it…. — she had gotten a 98 out of 100 on her exam! And even as I type this I am smile-crying because god, do I understand her despair. I wish I could transport through time and give the 8-year-old version of my mom a massive hug for feeling those two points so deeply…

My friends, this stuff is hard. Being a leader is hard. Achieving big things is hard. Being a human is hard. Having high standards is hard. But it is also sometimes — maybe more of the times than we realize — made harder by our own doing, by that self-imposed soundtrack nattering in our ears making us forget that a perfect score isn’t the goal, and that what we are doing or have already done is pretty damned great if we would just allow ourselves to see the damned greatness.

So, all I’d like to suggest is that from time to time, we let go of those two points and turn the perfection soundtrack off. That we give ourselves credit for how many points we DID get, how many new customers we DID get, how many milestones we HAVE achieved, and to focus less on how far there is still to go.

For me and so many us, the trick, the work, is finding the elusive sweet spot between striving and accepting: striving for more and better while accepting where, and who, we currently are.

It’s not about becoming complacent, it’s about recognizing that sometimes, even when we do our best, all we’ll get is a painful 98% and a tearful walk home, but our grandfathers will still be there to hug us, and we’ll still go on to have amazing lives full of inner and outer achievements, and maybe one day, sixty years into the future, we’ll have daughters (literal or figurative) who write lovingly about us and admire us for all the times we chose not to give up, not to stop, not to throw everything away even when we were less than perfect.

And it’s about recognizing — as my great-grandfather said to my mother all those years ago — that sometimes those two points aren’t ours to have, anyway. Sometimes 98 is our perfect score. And that really is perfect enough.

As we look back at January and many of us finalize our plans and goals for the year ahead, I want to share some thoughts on the importance of developing - and then living by! - a personal inner scorecard.

Here's what I mean:

I've said this before, but I hate social media. I hate the pressure of it and the superficiality of (much of) it. And I particularly hate the way the big tech companies consciously manipulate it - and manipulate us - to pull us apart, lock us into echo chambers, and amplify opposing ideas until the whole world and its complexity becomes reduced to binary and opposing factions.

BUT, I also recognize that social media is just a tool. And like all tools, it can be used for good, or for evil. So as I’ve grappled with it, I’ve decided to use it for good. And on my terms. I don’t have gazillions of followers, I don't use gimmicks or bots to increase my reach, and I have a simple rule: if I use social media at all, it will be to share ideas that - I hope - add value to people's lives in some way. Share value, or say nothing. That's my rule.

But it is a rule that goes against so much common business "wisdom". I am constantly bombarded by people who tell me I need to engage all day, "value bomb" other people's FB pages, get likes and follows by any means necessary, and systematically be everywhere all the time. 

But I don't. That's not who I am. That's not living my values. So that's not what I do. 

And that's the power of an inner scorecard. We make the rules for ourselves and then ignore the pulls of "industry practices", "SOPs", and all the other benchmarks that aren't relevant to us... or simply, aren't how we want to do things. We choose what's important to us and forget about the rest. We run our own race. Do things our way. And be who we are. 

Is it easy? Of course not. Is it without "cost"? No. Trade-offs are real. I am all too aware that by limiting my social media activity to what it is, I am losing out on potential clients, potential impact, potential business, and maybe a lot of other things too. But that is a trade-off I am willing to make. 

And that is what we all have to do when we live by our own measure. We have to acknowledge that we might not grow as big, we might not make as much money, we might not get all the clients (then again, we might get the growth, money, and clients that are right for us). And we have to be okay with whatever trade-offs we are making.

So as you move through the rest of your year, decide who's going to keep score: you or someone else. Decide what counts as a "win" and what counts as a "loss." Decide. Choose. Keep your own scorecard and let everyone else keep theirs. ​

Last week I shared with you the first two of my Lessons Learned in 2021. It was great to hear from some of you about how you are doing pulling together your own list, so keep it up (and please keep sharing!).

Here are this week's installment from my own list:

Lesson 3: Make time for the things that fuel your soul - I find that so often when we set goals and aspirations for ourselves, we can do so by forgetting about the other “stuff”. We grind and work and burn the candle at both ends and obsess over monetizing things and hack at ourselves with productivity hack after hack.

But, my dear readers, there is more to life than doing, doing, doing all the time. And it’s okay to do things for their own sake. Just because you love them. And just for the joy they fill you with.

Earlier this year, when I was planning my “income and impact” goals, I consciously chose to NOT monetize everything I was doing. Sure, the money is important (especially after the smackdown COVID laid on most of our businesses!), but so are things other than money (duh!).

So I gave myself permission to speak and do workshops just because I love doing them. Without an “upsell”. Without an agenda. Without any metrics or targets or KPIs to guide them. I love sharing what I learn and I love connecting with people. So I did over 24 (!) different workshops just for the fun of it and totally for free.

And I loved every minute. I loved preparing, and executing, and fielding questions, and meeting people I wouldn’t have otherwise met. And I let myself enjoy what I enjoy without saddling the joy with justification. Doing what I love and helping other people was justification enough.

So think about where you can add more joy into your life. Just because. It doesn’t have to become your full time job, but do make time for it. After all, how we spend our days, is how we spend our lives.

Lesson 4: Learn how to be content without being complacent - If the past two years have taught me anything it is this. Sh*t happens. Sometimes really big, bad sh*t happens. But even amidst all of that horrible, stinky, mess, there are so many things to be content about. 

And the “secret sauce”, I think, to sustainable careers and sane lives is to find a way to be content with where we are and what we have while still maintaining the drive to strive and do more (if we want to!).

It’s not easy, but this year in particular, I have started to give myself talking-tos any time I start going down a woe-is-me spiral. Sure, I have had some really tough times and really stressful times and really anxiety-filled times this year. But instead of stewing, I remind (read: force!) myself to think about all the great things going on in my life. 

And then I remind myself that even though I want to do better, or build more, or have a bigger impact, I have enough now, too. Content, not complacent. It’s a skill worth working on or we will drive ourselves into the ground with frustration and unhappiness.

See you again next week!
​

Almost a decade ago, I was having lunch with a dear friend and we were half-laughing, half-crying about our inner nerds. I was bemoaning my need for “gold stars,” and it was then that my friend said what has stayed with me all these years: “I get it dude, it’s your Lisa Simpson complex. I’m the same.”
 
Now for the unfamiliar, Lisa Simpson is a cartoon character who is endearingly obsessed with perfection and good grades, with being the archetypal “good girl.” And my friend’s comment has stayed with me all these years because elements of my “Lisa Simpson complex” still infect so many big and small aspects of my life, and it’s something I have to work hard to keep in check. (But her comment also reassured me that there are other “Lisas” out there… maybe you’re one too!)
 
Now, part of me is proud to be meticulous and painstaking about things that are important to me (good grammar, detailed P&Ls, folding my clothes just-so… you have to have standards, so they may as well be good ones!), but part of me also recognizes that there’s a reason “pain” is 36% of the word “painstaking,” because too much Lisa Simpson is no good. It is painful. And it can be destructive. And it can give too much power to people or things outside our control.
 
And it is only with a lot of practice and the perspective that comes with time (I won't say "age" just yet) that I have finally started letting go just a little bit of my once-near-obsession with getting gold stars and being "perfect" in all aspects of my life.
 
I know I will never NOT care what other people think of me, but I have started to be selective about whose opinion I DO care about (Are they qualified to have an opinion? Have they been in the ring themselves? Or are they just haters raining down popcorn and peanuts from the cheap seats?). I know I will always want some actual or symbolic gold stars, but I have started getting better at giving them to myself. I know there will be times when I look at my businesses or look in the mirror and only see the things that need “fixing,” but I have started getting better at focusing on what is amazing and beautiful, too.
 
As high-achievers, I think sometimes we put so much pressure on ourselves to be everything to everyone and to do it all perfectly, often by a standard of perfection or performance that someone else has given to us. And I get it. Wanting to be “the best” is hardwired into my DNA. One of my favorite stories about my mom goes something like this: When she was around 8 or 9, she came home from school bawling her eyes out, shaking with sadness. Her grandfather – my great-grandfather – rushed out of the house terrified by her distress, and asked her what was wrong. Through sobs and snot, she told him it was because – wait for it…. – she had gotten a 98 out of 100 on her exam! And even as I type this I am smile-crying because god, do I understand her despair. I wish I could transport through time and give the 8-year-old version of my mom a massive hug for feeling those two points so deeply…
 
My friends, this stuff is hard. Being a leader is hard. Achieving big things is hard. Being a human is hard. Having high standards is hard. But it is also sometimes – maybe more of the times than we realize – made harder by our own doing, by that self-imposed soundtrack nattering in our ears making us forget that a perfect score isn’t the goal, and that what we are doing or have already done is pretty damned great if we would just allow ourselves to see the damned greatness.
 
So, all I’d like to suggest is that from time to time, we let go of those two points and turn the perfection soundtrack off. That we give ourselves credit for how many points we DID get, how many new customers we DID get, how many milestones we HAVE achieved, and to focus less on how far there is still to go.
 
For me and so many us, the trick, the work, is finding the elusive sweet spot between striving and accepting: striving for more and better while accepting where, and who, we currently are.
 
It’s not about becoming complacent, it’s about recognizing that sometimes, even when we do our best, all we’ll get is a painful 98% and a tearful walk home, but our grandfathers will still be there to hug us, and we’ll still go on to have amazing lives full of inner and outer achievements, and maybe one day, sixty years into the future, we’ll have daughters (literal or figurative) who write lovingly about us and admire us for all the times we chose not to give up, not to stop, not to throw everything away even when we were less than perfect.
 
And it’s about recognizing – as my great-grandfather said to my mother all those years ago – that sometimes those two points aren’t ours to have, anyway. Sometimes 98 is our perfect score. And that really is perfect enough.
​