The concept of solvitur ambulando (“it is solved by walking”) is not new or original, but is certainly transcendent. But is it true, this idea that “it is solved by walking?” And if it is true, to what extent? I went for a a long walk some time ago, covering the distance from Georgia to Maine entirely on foot along the Appalachian Trail. Many things were solved along that path, both the physical one and the less obvious inner path. I learned that I had more in me than I knew in certain areas, and less in me in others. But the reality is that we are made for forward motion, and there is no form of transport quite so extravagantly simple as self-propelling! Not that it doesn’t have its limitations, because of course it does. But realizing that is a huge part of the battle. One must quit while ahead.
In the case of perfectionism, there is something remarkably freeing in the proposal to just walk about. Fresh air, increased circulation and in most cases, a reconciliation with the simple fact that we are made to walk is evident. But what resides in the symbolic understanding of the phrase is even more significant.
For some perfectionists, in our attempts to do something (and not only something, but everything, as perfectly as possible) we end up tempted to skip necessary steps along the way to the end goal. Sometimes there is a certain natural gifting that has results in a degree of success without much cultivation. There can be a sense of competency that naturally leads to the tendency to avoid failure by not taking the laborious but necessary steps of trial and error necessary for truly commanding a subject. This can be due to high expectations of the self that don’t permit the easy achievement of just about anything, and the following sense of the impossibility of the task. But as the saying goes: “An expert is someone who has made every mistake in their field.” Unfortunately, the perfectionist doesn’t allow themself the practical luxury of making mistakes for fear of being diminished in some way. Because most people are not along for the ride but chiefly interested in the synopsis of an experience, there is no way to quantify what has been literally walked through except to vicariously acknowledge that it was.
The good news is that when we are tempted to take shortcuts in the name of presenting “perfectly,” we need only to remember that the substance is more important than the appearance. What good is a façade that only shields ruins?
There are messes and mistakes to make along the way. How beautiful! We tout learning, but how often are we encouraged, like the cartoon schoolchildren of the show “The Magic Schoolbus,“ to “make mistakes, get messy, and take risks”? Messes are not signs of failure—they are signs of learning, of process, and that is key to substance. Without oxen a stable stays clean, but you need a strong ox for a large harvest. (Proverbs 14:4, NLT) A soiled mess is evidence of life, the disarray of trial and error, and the progression that can only come because of them. The proof of this is the mistake that leads to the breakthrough that was not going come any other way.
There is much to be celebrated when we allow ourselves to take the kind of risks that might land us in an awkward situation. As perfectionists, we try so hard to play it safe, we miss out on some of the best moments life can offer.
This is not to advocate irresponsible risk taking; there is difference between calculated risks and foolishness. But without faith it is impossible to please God. Perfectionists generally struggle to live on faith. It feels too much like reckless abandon. The emphasis instead is on the known quotient, the formulaic and the predictable. After all, it is only our own efforts to control that bring about the results we want, isn’t it? Thankfully, that is far from the truth. The truth is that we have a sinless, utterly flawless Savior who worked on our behalf to win us back, to win our hearts, and to produce lasting spiritual fruit to the praise of the Father. When we can surrender to His majesty and His unfailing heart for us, realizing that not only is he “enough” but he is everything, the storms can’t blow as hard. God’s spirit wants us to look to him for life and direction–not to coddle us but to grow us even more into His image, and to present us strong and vibrant before the Presence of the Father.
Some things won’t come undone until we get to heaven. We have strings attached that need to be cut loose, friendships that need to change, dialogue that needs to take place. But with us, and better yet, within us, the power of God works to make us into the people we are intended to be. It is ultimately up to Him how far we progress in this life. That can seem like a hard pill to swallow for those who like to perpetually be in control, and dare we say, take credit for the outcome. But in reality, our minds are warped until they are saturated in the Word and we are thinking the thoughts of His heart, soul and mind. As the Word Made Flesh, Christ was not at all concerned with expressing His own sovereignty apart from the will of the Father. Just as the words we speak serve us, so Christ himself was at one with the will of the Father—a oneness that is hard to fathom.
In all our clamoring for success and victory in this life, may we never forget that Christ died to pardon us for the things we don’t have all together. And while He wants to be our supply, He still has work for us to do volitionally. The difference is we can serve from a pure heart and not out of some religious pressure. The spirit of religion has called forth a perfectionist spirit, but it has already been defeated at the Cross. We can only surrender our will to Him, offer Him the sad and broken remains of perfectionism and let Him replace our old heart with a new one that pumps with a desire to do what is pleasing to him at all times, even when we fail at doing so. We imply cannot be perfect in our flesh. But there is something beyond it that we are called to embrace, and that is the humility that comes before honor. The desire written within us to see our God exalted, not our own accomplishments, is driven by the spirit, and is not a work of the flesh. Our bravery, our exploits become that which calls attention to His powerful grace and unending love for all of us.
There is a certain courage inherent in taking a first step into something new, and perhaps away from something old, not knowing if the power exists to keep up with the task and set the pace that lays ahead. Like the maps of old with unconquered, unknown territories simply displayed with hand-drawn Leviathans and the words “here be dragons,” we often surmise defeat before we even begin! It is a troubled mindset that keeps us away from the game, that convinces us to quit even before we enter in, when the reality is that there is nothing to be lost from the trying, only something to be gained. And even if there is an experience of loss, there are still gifts to be had even if not the most sought after form of receiving them.
But there is something about simply walking it out, and letting the process work itself out, that reminds us that every step matters, every step counts. “It is solved by walking.”