The American in me

What am I chasing? I asked myself this question on my train ride to work the other day. Thoroughly exhausted from my two jobs, GRE studying, freelance writing, trying to learn french, graduate school applications, and running, I finally paused and probed the question--am I enjoying my life here in Paris?

I have always been one to push for the best, in everything. I like running, so I should do a marathon. I want to be a writer, so I should go to graduate school. I want to get better at math, so I should spend all my free time working on it. But why? Why should I do all of these things? What am I trying to prove? And to whom?

Americans flirt a fine line with discipline, success, and the never-ending quest for superiority. I have trained myself to believe that I am never good enough--I could always do better, look better, write better. For the most part this trait has lead me to great success. However, it also pushes me into a constant cycle of achievement. I am chasing the perfect version of myself. Coming to this realization was extremely sobering, as well as saddening. I finally admitted that even when I accomplished all of the goals I set before myself, I was never happy with the outcome. I could have done better.

So as I sat on my quiet train, studying flashcards and trying not to think about everything else I needed to do in order to become a perfect human being that I could finally love and be proud of, I became extremely conscious of the American in me. Here I am, a twenty-two year old college graduate living in Paris and all I can focus on is my future endeavors. This is not to say that I have not been appreciating this city, but I have certainly been limiting my present moments with future concerns. Shouldn't I be emulating the Parisians? Taking two-hour lunches, having endless coffee dates with friends, not overloading myself with perfection? You think the French care if they make 200,000 a year and drive a porsche? Not so much.

I do not know if I will ever find perfection, especially in myself. Moreover, I do not know where the notion that I needed to mold myself into a being of accomplishment derived from. Could I not be content with my present self? That what I was doing was enough to satisfy my own standards? Didn't I come here to have an adventure and advance my French. And that was it? All of these questions plagued my current choices--who was I trying to impress? The American mindset is that of success in every aspect. Be the best at everything and you will be happy. Be rich, be in shape, graduate from multiple high-ranked institutions,  have an enviable reputation. But after living in Paris I have started to wonder--is this truly success?

Parisians make fun of us Americans, we who slave to make it to the top of a constantly ascending ladder. We who do so much, want so much all the time. As a country we need to be one of the top, if not the top, in the world; America needs to be the greatest.

Well, what will make me the greatest? The answer to this question--obviously--is a mystery. However, my long list of accomplishments fall on my own deaf ears when I asses myself and my performance. I can not look at what I have done in the past or what I have become--it is all about looking forward.

So I looked forward, and became unhappy. I was unhappy in Paris. This was definitely not success. Somehow I had moved to an amazing city and overloaded myself with American standards of achievement. Straddling these two cultural mindsets has taught me a great deal about personal acceptance and drive. Though I always need to be "doing" something, I should take time to praise my efforts and outcomes.

Perhaps I will be able to do nothing all day and then go out and drink wine, stay out until sunrise and sleep the next day away.

On the other hand, I can look at the accounts I follow on twitter, mainly the health, running and trainer profiles and stress out about the fact that my abs are not rock hard, I am not up at 6 am doing 100 sit ups, nor do I eat all whole grains and vegetables all the time.

Which would you choose?

I mimic America when it comes to glorifying performance. If my performance, in any aspect, is not up to my own standards, then I have failed. Failed who? Good question, as I am the only one who is dubbing myself "a failure."

Thus I have decided to stop. Though I will never be able to escape my "do-er" personality, as that is the American in me, I can learn to appreciate the present moments that truly define happiness. Success no longer has to be defined as a daily checklist, but perhaps a tranquil day spent people-watching and reading. I have promised myself that after my graduate applications are in I am taking on no more. No more quest for perfection. And I will truly try to stop taking things I love, such as running or writing, and transforming them into competitions. Because, lets face it, it's really no fun when you are the only one in the race and the only person to beat is yourself.