Perfection is the Enemy of Progress

Yesterday, a dent was made in the never ending, always expanding To Do list: I finally completed my first paint pour. Back in August, I set up the canvas and bought the acrylics, but it wasn’t until yesterday that I gathered everything together and actually, literally just did it.

Why did it take so long?

I have this unrelenting need to be perfect in any- and everything that I do. Never mind if it’s my first time trying. Why bother if it’s not great? What’s the point in doing something if the end result isn’t excellent?

The point is to do my best, with where I am and what I have, today. The point is to learn. Tomorrow, my best will be that much better. And in a year from now, my best will be 1000% better than yesterday’s – but only if I stick with it and keep forging forward.

The truth is, this blog and my writing are not where I want them to me. Neither is my sewing, my painting, my crafting….

I spread myself too thin. Turns out, I can do a bunch of things just ok, or I can do a select few things really, really well. The choice is up to me. But by spreading my energy in every direction, and giving just a little to every idea that pops into my head, I can’t successfully sustain or elevate anything. 

“Never half-ass two things. Whole-ass one thing.”

Ron Swanson

No matter which direction I choose, no matter how much energy I devote or how many things I try to accomplish, I need to remember that the things I do will not be perfect.

There is no perfect. Even a master at their craft still has areas of growth.

If I want my writing to get better, I have to keep writing, and keep posting. Such a simple concept that is so much harder in practice.

Why?

Because I’m afraid of what comes next, that which I can’t control: the reactions of others. If something’s not perfect, people will have an easy opening to rip it apart. I’ve seen it happen anytime anyone shares anything they create.

But I should share it anyway, despite how others may view it. How else will I get better?

Trying to attain a level of perfection that doesn’t exist is one of the biggest contributors to my unhappiness. It’s the reason I give up before I’ve even truly started.

One of the reasons I’m drawn to writing is to document these realizations. It’s also a reason I’m compelled to post: to have concrete measurements of how far I’ve come.

Today, my work might suck. Tomorrow, hopefully, it will suck a little less. And in a year from now, when I compare whatever I’ve written to this, right here, hopefully I will be at a level I can today only dream of.

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