Greetings! The Ancestral Homekeeper is a newsletter dedicated to slow & simple living for all of us. I’m Kristina, and I believe that the way we shape our lives at home will be reflected in our society at large. By blending the wisdom of our ancestors with contemporary thoughts on mental health, self nurturing, and social justice, we can find the path to changing our world. New letter is out every Sunday!
My perfectionism got the better of me.
The sun was not yet risen, and there was a bite to the air we haven’t yet felt this season. I was gulping my tea as I stood in the doorway, watching the steam from my cup and my breath rise up in the blue morning.
I was beginning the day by berating myself. The subject for that week’s newsletter was proving elusive, as I had too many ideas that needed more time to develop. I told myself to just run with one, as it didn’t have to be perfect. What matters is that I show up and keep the promise I made to myself — that I share my thoughts with the world to deepen my writing practice and contribute something to the change so many of us long for in society.
But I couldn’t. I pulled out my phone and began editing my children’s Christmas list. I planned out the dinner I would make and film later that evening for my YouTube channel. I wondered if we would have enough time to do a piano lesson after lunch or if we should spend more time with our watercolors. I was productively procrastinating.
Perfectionism comes in many forms. According to Katherine Morgan Schafler’s brilliant book, The Perfectionists Guide to Losing Control, she posits that there are four primary types of perfectionists — Classic, Parisian, Procrastinator, and Messy. As I apparently “possess a live-wire understanding of the power of interpersonal connection and hold a strong capacity for empathy,” I am primarily a perfectionist of the Parisian sort, with some elements of messy and procrastinator throw in. (If you want to discover your type, check out her quiz online. It will be deeply satisfying to your inner pre-teen, if you were the sort of child who gobbled up all the quizzes in Seventeen magazine like I did.)
When it comes to embracing this lifestyle of slow living, I think perfectionism can get the better of us. Once we realize the benefits of opting out of consumer capitalism, and look to regain the ancestral wisdom of those who went before us, it can feel imperative that we shed ourselves of all the trappings of the “normal life.” We learn how toxic food dyes and we want to stop feeding them to our family, immediately — magenta birthday party cupcakes be dammed. We love baking sourdough and feel an intense pressure to bake every day, so that we can stop having to buy bread wrapped in plastic at the market for good. We see the immense value and joy in sewing or knitting, but fail to pick up our work-in-progress because we aren’t as far along as we would like, and we still feel like a beginner after so many years.
This manifestation of perfectionism feels insidious. It can afflict any of the perfectionist types that Katherine described. It can creep in and prevent us from taking the steps we need to live slower and more mindfully. The shame of not being perfect and living up to our values 100% of the time can feel utterly paralyzing — at least that is how it feels to me.
But let’s dismantle just how ridiculous this is. When we are teaching a child how to ride a bicycle, do we expect them to be told once how to do it, and then get on and ride it perfectly without falling even once? Of course not, that would be absurd! We know they will learn by trying and failing, falling down, and perhaps even scraping a knee. We are gentle with them if they are hard on themselves, and patiently show them, over and over, how to adjust and balance.
Why do we expect it will be different for us? We can watch one Instagram reel about how important it is to eat dinner together with our families every evening, and then berate ourselves when it just doesn’t happen easily when we try to implement that practice into our own home. Instead, why can we not take joy in the family meal even if that is only once per week? We can shift our schedules to prioritize it, prepare simpler meals to ensure everything is ready to eat when it’s time to sit down, even read books to our kids about eating together. We can take steps to living our values and celebrate them, even if we aren’t living them 100% of the time.
I have a deep commitment to sustainability, but we use paper towels more than occasionally. I extoll the virtues of sourdough and still give in to grocery store sliced bread more frequently than I’d like to admit. I buy dinosaur nuggets for my neurodivergent child, even though the ingredient list makes me blanch — sometimes he needs the comfort of his “safe” food. All of this is okay! Every loaf of bread I bake is a testament to my progress and values. Every time we eat together as a family, my heart knows a peace that won’t abandon me easily, even if our next dinner is eaten in shifts.
I want us to bridge the gap between our aspirational selves and where we are now, treat our whole selves with a gentleness that so many of us, especially those of us with trauma or these perfectionist tendencies, have a hard time with. For me personally, I believe it’s a combination of my C-PTSD from childhood trauma + my enneagram 4 personality + my Parisian perfectionism that all conspire to make me feel like I am not good enough to be here. To live a slower life and have the audacity to talk about it. To call myself a writer. Because I am not yet perfect.
This is, of course, a fallacy. Contradictions make us human. Great genius is born from flaws and mistakes. It is impossible to be born knowing how to ride a bike, or how to knit, or how to buck against the oppression of colonial capitalist patriarchy. We take small steps to reclaim our ancestral wisdom, practice and integrate, and then take a few more. The Fool’s journey winds many paths before it is complete.
I want this newsletter to feel effortless for me to write. I want you to feel something after you read it — inspiration, solidarity, a sense of calm, even just… seen. And at this stage in my life, this means I must let go of my perfectionism, my deep fear that I will be found out as a total imposter, and publish letters even when I feel they are imperfect. When my perfectionism voice is particularly loud, I can greet it with gentleness, acknowledge what it is afraid of, and then push forward.
Tomorrow when I meet the dawn, I will give myself the grace that last week’s self could not discern.
Until next time, my friends.
Oh Maxine, the makes my heart so happy to hear! 🥰 Thank you for being here.
I resonate with this a lot! The title pulled me in, because I often have that feeling -- why should I even try? Thanks for sharing your thoughts. I just finished reading a book about Adlerian psychology called The Courage to Be Disliked, and toward the end the author explores some concepts for process-based (rather than outcome-based) living. It was a helpful perspective! Glad life keeps sending me reminders that it’s ok to slow down and do what I can 💛