Perfectionism is a convenient excuse for laziness.
I hear it all the time.
"I'm a perfectionist."
Hell, I used to say it.
Not coincidentally, it was during a period of my life when I wasn't producing much.
To say that you're a perfectionist and that is why you refuse to get started is simply you putting a bow on your own laziness.
To say that you're a perfectionist and that's why you're never happy with how your ventures are going is simply you putting a bow on a crappy, unrealistic attitude.
Honestly, I'm not quite sure which is worse.
But trust me, I've tried both approaches so I know from experience. I'm writing this in the hopes of saving you time that I have wasted in the past.
I participated in an art show recently. It was the kind of art show where the attendees didn't really know much about art. They seemingly just wanted to get dressed up, carry a drink around and take photos in front of a signs reading "local art" for their Instagram pages.
And that's fine.
Honestly, any interest in art for any reason, I think, is a great thing.
I didn't take it personally. I still don't. I don't care why they were there or why anybody's anywhere for that matter. (But that's a different blog post entirely.)
My point is this: had I let either of those two "perfectionist" types of excuses sink in, I never would have done the show at all.
I never would have attended to begin with because my paintings were not wired to be hung. They weren't really "ready" to be displayed. Had I said "My work needs to be perfect or else I won't show up," I never would have been there. So I worked with what I had and I showed up.
Then, once there, had I said "My work needs to respected and honored in the way I deem worthy otherwise I'm leaving," I would have left near the start of the show.
I would have wrapped up my pieces and left when the event's hired photographer kept hitting my pieces with his bookbag, despite my alerting him that his bookbag kept knocking into my paintings.
When he failed to adjust his bookbag to avoid hitting my paintings, I didn't blow up at him citing how many thousands of dollars my paintings sell for.
I didn't call him an idiot.
I didn't make a scene.
I tried to change the situation as best I could, by telling him about his bookbag knocking into my paintings, and then when the situation didn't change, I accepted it.
In full disclosure and to confirm that I'm no saint, I did, however, turn and make irate comments to my fiance about how I was "about ready to lose it" (to which he replied that I clearly already had).
But, more than any of that, I shook it off and smiled politely as that same photographer came to take photos of me at my booth, with my work. And when he was done, I thanked him. Sincerely. Even if through gritted teeth.
Yes, I had a small meltdown.
No, I didn't walk out and leave because things weren't "perfect."
The fact is: if you're waiting for the perfect time or perfect circumstances to live a dream, you're gonna die waiting.
Your work may never be perfect.
Your website may never be perfect.
The environment and your audience may never be perfect.
And you will certainly never be perfect.
So you might as well get started and keep going regardless.
And there's perfection in the imperfection. There's beauty in the process of striving toward the goal.
It's an odd spiritual balancing act between skill and grace.
But if I've learned one thing in life, it is this: No one scores if they don't show up to the game.
So table your laziness and your shitty attitude- those are all just excuses for your inaction anyhow- and show up.
I'm pretty convinced that some of the greatest musicians, artists and authors in the world died broke, uninspired and completely unknown because they hid behind "perfectionism" and never risked anything enough to get started.
TRISHA WILES