Here are a couple of excerpts from Lynsi’s post:
Reading Melia’s thoughts and observations, I discovered that I see a lot of myself in her, which is probably why I love her site and her project so much. She writes about how she developed a destructive perfectionism somewhere between youth and adulthood, in a schooling environment in which one is rewarded for following the rules and doing what is expected. But, after school, when there are no teachers and grades, who sets the rules? Melia discovered that the habits she developed in school were actually inhibiting her ability to enjoy and find personal peace in adulthood.
… I realized that after high school, after the scholarships, being involved in 500 activities doesn’t really matter anymore. In fact, it’s more beneficial to follow your passion and make your skills really matter. Even today I struggle with my tendency to fall into the vicious achievement mentality. And while I won’t stop doing my best at what I choose to do, I still have to reflect on whether what I’m doing is what I should do, or what I want to do. That’s what Melia has learned. Your life choices need to be based on what is possible and what you enjoy, not what your obligations are, which, often, are a figment of our social/academic/professional slavery.
It’s feedback like this that makes the project even more worthwhile. Thanks, Lynsi!
My friend Margaret said that this description, which I left as a comment on Where You Lede, particularly struck a chord with her:
We Type A folks are rewarded so heavily for achievement throughout our childhood, and when we grow up, a lot of us wait for the payoff…and wait…and then realize that it’s not coming.
One of the greatest lessons of Reschool Yourself was that all the striving and sacrifice and stress for achievement’s sake may add up to fancy degrees and gold stars, but it doesn’t necessarily add up to happiness. Doing things for enjoyment and personal fulfillment, on the other hand, regardless of what anyone else thinks, does. It’s not about external rewards, but rather the ones inside of us — the ones that can’t be put on a resume.