Doing Your Best: Bathroom Floods, Blanket Forts, and Sandwich Meltdowns

The Fourth Agreement by Don Miguel Ruiz: A Parent’s Perspective 

The Four Agreements is a book that shares principles of ancient Toltec wisdom shared by author Don Miguel Ruiz. These agreements offer us a chance to live with a greater sense of peace and ease as we move in the world. As a parent, I have found there is no shortage of potential guidance in how to be a parent in today’s world, living in my small bubble in the bay area of the United States. There is so much advice in media form available that it can be challenging to pick apart which pieces might offer the best advice for my particular situation with my particular children. The Fourth Agreement “Do your best” can be interpreted in the general, and then, along those lines for parents like us, as an invitation to be better parents.  

Who doesn’t want to feel like they are doing the best job they can for their children. To sit back and really believe that this is true, for you, could be enjoyed as some level of success. As a living practice, it sounds enticing. If I could only achieve it perfectly, every morning till bedtime, both in the middle of meltdowns and giggle-fests! Just as life is dynamic, our best can change with life events, longer days, or vacations and family time.  Initially, I thought of it when I first read it, as a performance standard. But I’ve come to see that for me, it is more a relationship with the present moment. It asks: What should I be able to do now? Put bluntly, that changes when a quarter of the bathtub water is now on the bathroom floor after they were told to stop splashing, or my two are in the middle of World War 3. 

What about self-compassion? Where does this fit in? One theme my therapist loves to talk about is understanding my capacity. Like life events, my capacity to do less or more changes with how I am feeling and what my perceptions of my current moment are. My default has been to move through life, generally oblivious of my capacity, in any given moment. The work has been to step back, pause, and reflect on what my current capacity is and then, from that place, act. It's a sort of a check in, perhaps. And I think generally, grownups, and even little people benefit when there is a pause and ideally, a brief reflection before any action – but it is also a tall ask.  

One thing to consider is the idea that we can treat ourselves as parents with the same patience we might offer our child who is visibly overwhelmed.  For me, when I push past my limits unconsciously, I am acting from a place of fear, not strength. I might also be acting from a place of exhaustion, panic, resentment, overwhelm, frustration, or fear. What if there is a pop-up fort in the living room after they are told not to use those clean blankets?  What about the meltdown on the kitchen floor because I used the wrong knife to spread the peanut butter?   None of these set ups is ideal for “doing my best” and so the pause is critical. A couple things I am working on doing are the following: Count to 5. Follow your breath. Say a prayer. Picture yourself as a little kid. It can change your behavior. And doing these things has made a difference. Doing your best can include things like self-care, setting healthy boundaries, extending yourself to repair (and not just output). Consider that we as parents can go so far as to ask ourselves: Did I do my best for me? For my inner five year old? Am I trying to give myself a little of what I need? Does it matter that we ask that at all? 
 
Childhood messages around accomplishments were very linear. Always Do Your Best meant that there was little room to f*** up. Rarely was I told that doing my best was adequate when it resulted in substandard performance, didn’t come in first, or wasn’t perfectly behaved. “Doing your best” often meant something else altogether. It mean being the best, doing more, and not disappointing others. It really implied: Try harder. You can do better. That’s not your best work. These “hidden” messages are actually what determined what my inner voice says – the same voice that is still as ready to evaluate me today as it was when I was five years old. 

So is it possible then, to un-learn and re-frame that directive?  How do we go from  treating it as instructions to comply, over-function, or push ourselves beyond reason in order to please someone or change something? Could our best ever look like: Saying no instead of yes? Slowing down instead of speeding up? Letting something be unfinished instead of staying over and pushing harder to finish it? Does that seem too far out? Too much off the beam?  What is the visible cost of misunderstanding this directive? Well, it can be unappealing to say the least. In my case, it has resulted in burnout disguised as discipline. It has manifested as resentment. I’ve become disconnected from my body’s own signals and ignored its communication. And there has been an underlying chronic feeling of being, paradoxically, not enough even when I am doing A LOT! That’s a high price to pay, isn’t it? 

 
So then what does “My Best” mean? I think the answer is my best equals what is available without self-abandonment. It encompasses emotional capacity, physical energy and mental load. This changes, hour to hour, day to day and season to season. Why? Because I am human. Because we are human. What about laying down some practical anchors? What about asking yourself these questions? 

“What is enough for today?”  

“ What would be a kind version of my best right now?” 

“ Am I pushing or responding?” 

Even more, how do I model this for my own kids? How do I teach them that effort does NOT equal worth. It just doesn’t. And that means that I make a point to let my child see:  

Me. Resting. 

Me. Recalibrating. 

Me. Being imperfect without shame. 

What am I teaching them in that? If I’m doing it right, I’m teaching them that my best is allowed to change. I can choose to do the following as part of doing my best. 

I trust that I don’t have to control everything to be okay. 

Allow life to unfold instead of forcing out comes 

I can let go of the illusion that more effort equals more safety. 

I can return to my being present, instead of getting lost in prediction.  

I can be kind to my inner 5 year old, my inner 8 year old, my inner 12 year old.  Doing my best is not about squeezing more out of myself. I don’t have to suffer in order to have positive change, to speak positive words, and to do positive actions. Its about no longer abandoning yourself to meet an expectation. “Progress, not perfection”.