Get in perfectionists, we’re going to Losers’ town.

Waiting for perfection is the exact opposite direction of improvement. Apply it to whatever you want. You keep your hopes high, aspiring to catch perfection somehow, while the only thing you do about it is wait. It is wishful thinking in a toxic way. You fool yourself by pretending that you need time to get there. That time, however, never ends. Days pass. Your desire to do something about it fades away.

(But let’s dig that fact down.)

On the surface, you keep telling yourself, “I am not ready yet.” You know deep down there is something else preventing you from moving a step ahead, though; fear.

Maybe it is because of your impostor syndrome, maybe, you are afraid of being average, or maybe, it is just your fear of failure. In every case, the concept of perfection is something you made up in your mind, an arrival point that is impossible to get. In every case, what it gives you is anxiety. A blockage keeping you away from realizing yourself.

(But what is perfect?)

   

On the other hand, let’s consider that the perfection that you think exists is absolute. The question then would be whether you can achieve it by waiting and hiding in your comfort zone. I don’t think you can do that. Because the stars will never be perfectly aligned, and the weather will never be good enough. In the end, the idea of being perfect will prevent you from practising, which will prevent you from improving in the way you want. It is simple as this:

“If you want to learn to swim, jump into the water. On dry land, no frame of mind is ever going to help you.”

Now, stay with me. We are moving in another direction now. Why is being perfect your end goal? When that sense of fulfilment arrives, what does guarantee that it’ll stay? I’ll tell you. Nothing does because there is nothing fun or intriguing in your perfectionist town where you can stick around until your blood get drained by the worst-case scenarios and conspiracy theories that keep popping into your mind.

“To live only for some future goal is shallow. It’s the sides of the mountain which sustain life, not the top. Here’s where things grow.”

So here I am, writing this shitty blog post, forcing myself to make mistakes and be imperfect. I started this blog four years ago thinking the same. I am a perfectionist trying to heal, to remove all the obstacles between me and doing stuff. 

I know nobody is perfect, and the town of perfection is a dystopic land dressed like a daydream. The only way out is to start. And to make mistakes. And to fail.