16./ The tangled roots of perfectionism
Joy lies in the messy middle. Creating for simple delight, regardless of the result.
5-minute reflection
20 August, 2026 Day 18, Inner Autumn
Do you remember when you were in flow one minute, only to brush against a wall of resistance? Inspiration as thick as honey, then feeling it dissipate like winter fog?
Words normally flow freely for me. So when meeting inner resistance this week, I began to ponder why.
Why am I so resistant to sharing the thoughts that live within me? What is the story I am telling myself?
Upon reflection, I initially brush up against old mate Comparison. The voice that critiques my existence, assessing how others will perceive me based on my sense of self-worth.
Lingering behind her is Perfectionism. The belief that I somehow need to get the words right. To be witty, sage-like, the original OG.
To be something more than what I assume I am being in that moment. That I need to be more in order to make an impact.
Which is absolute, utter bullshit.
Playfulness is the antithesis of perfection and performance.
Joy lies in the messy middle. Creating for creation’s sake. Tapping into inner aliveness and simply seeing what flows out.
It’s natural to cling to what is familiar.
Living from the truth of our heart requires us to let go of what is no longer true.
This isn’t as easy as it sounds. Often it means acknowledging and releasing old beliefs and patterns that have kept us safe in our younger years.
It’s natural to cling to what is familiar.
Often it’s why we cannot feel the emotional armour that builds up around old wounds.
The armour becomes a part of our skin. The weight of it is negligible as we tell ourselves stories that keep us safe.
Safe from uncomfortable emotions.
Safe from embracing our aliveness.
Safe from having to be something that once got us excluded, ridiculed, ostracised or raged at.
As a Leo (Sag rising) when I was younger, I was told I was too shiny. Too loud. Too gregarious and imaginative. Told by teachers to sit down and give someone else a turn.
It’s no wonder I often sat between the push-pull of untapped reservoirs of fantastical expression and the good-girl conditioning of ‘let someone else speak’.
In my 20 & 30s, my wounded self projected a persona of ‘not caring what others think’. Indifferent to the impact of my larger-than-life, gregarious ways, yet desperately aching to fit in.
By my 40s, this tempered to a more reserved, in-my-own-skin persona, which isn’t far from the truth. Yet underneath this was my shadow self. The part that knows I am here to teach and facilitate, yet fears what happens when I actually show up.
When we approach our shadow from a space of non-judgemental curiosity, we begin to diminish the power it holds.
Consciousness self-enquiry is what brings light to our shadow territory. By noticing the pattern and shadow-behaviour, it no longer gets to live in our subconscious basement.
We get to choose how we want to interact with it. Do we allow it to continue driving our agenda? Our behaviours? Or do we tend to those parts of ourselves that first experienced the tender wounding?
For me, it means being here. Writing. Expressing myself and holding Women’s Circles. Even if no one turns up, I will.
This article wasn’t written in a day.
It was gently approached over two weeks whilst my body recovered from a chest infection. Yet rather than judge myself for not being in flow, I saw myself. I allowed myself permission to just be, to be curious and to play. Knowing that, in the right time, whatever was meant to flow would flow.
Shadow work doesn’t have to rip us bare to the bone.
It may simply be the practice of sitting with an uncomfortable sensation, and getting curious. What’s here? Where did it come from? And is that what I truly believe?
Here’s to living from the truth of our hearts, and releasing all the things that are no longer true.
For those for you who are reading this, I see you, and I send you so much gratitude and blessings for taking the time to hang out.
Curious about archetypal embodiment and shadow work wisdom?
Written from a place where I am
Day 18 — Dancing with a state of unbridled curiosity as I deepen into my Inner Autumn luteal phase.
This work was written on the traditional lands of the Wurundjeri People. I give thanks to the elders, past present and emerging. I also acknowledge the wisdom in this writing was gained from my teachers at Red School, Rewilding for Women and Shamanic School of Womancraft.