The Perils of Perfectionism

As I was perusing the pictures of Don Stewart’s morning clinic at Chastain Horse Park, I came across a picture of me, jumping on my pony, Beau. The first thing  I thought of was how far I was leaning forward—I was hovering over the pommel of the saddle, not anywhere near the middle. My leg was fine, if a little too far back. My eyes were looking ahead. My back was flat. While my elbows looked like chicken wings, it wasn’t a major problem. It was my upper body that ruined the whole image.  I had known I had a tendency to lean forward over jumps from looking at pictures, but I thought I had cured that habit. Apparently not.

Seven years of sore legs, sweat, painful injuries, and hard work, I still had faults when jumping over a small, 2’3” jump. It made me wonder—would I ever look as good as George Morris? Would I ever be perfect?

It all made me think—if you strive for perfection, you’re going to have to shoulder the burden of failure. There’s always going to be some little flaw—your heel isn’t down, you can’t hit the right note, you can’t figure out a math problem. If you want perfection, you need to be prepared to fight a losing battle. Seven years can make you great; but no amount of time can make you perfect.

About the author: Anna Harrison is an enthusiastic horse rider, pianist, and soccer and basketball player. She is a Harry Potter nerd extraordinaire.