Nothing will ever be perfect. So if you wait for it, it'll never happen. My whole life I've been fixated on the end goal. The university degree, the marriage, the published book. In that time it's safe to say that I missed the forest for the trees. I've been missing the whole damn journey. And it's not like I haven't known this, but the older I get, the more I feel it. The more to do lists I make, the more editing I do, the less goals I accomplish, the.more.I.feel.it.
Drafts sit in my inbox; I nitpick and mull it over; I re-visit it and inevitably find something wrong with it. I say I'll get to it tomorrow, which slips into next week ... and so months pass me by.
What is that? That thing that we do? What is this magical chromosome that some of us have, which others of us lack? The one that propels us into action as our ideas form. Why do some of us wait for a massive build-up, or worse, rock bottom, before we are pushed to create? I personally do this with everything from writing to cleaning and all things in between. I think I love the feeling of a massive accomplishment, instead of incremental small ones. Tornadoing through 3 loads of unfolded laundry, rendering a sparking clean bedroom for instance? Much more appealing than packing them away in a timely manner. The avalanche approach vs. the snowball, if you will.
Are we manifestations of our habits? [Does that sentence make sense?] I don't know, but I do know that it's very difficult to change ourselves, for the better, the healthier, the more productive.
Here's to being less perfect. But perhaps, more authentic.