Like you, I’ve got a project I’m supposed to be working on. I’m supposed to be completing the written content for an online course I’m developing.
Most of the time I’m pretty focused on getting things done. Most of the time. But right now, I’m finding myself infinitely distracted. So many things to do. So many justifications. Social media to build connections for my writing. Another round of research. Reading just one more book full of insights on how I can be a better writer or blogger.
Lots of things to do, but honestly, it’s all just a distraction. I’m feeling enormous pressure and resistance around the one thing I really want to be doing right now. Why?
Because I’m a perfectionist.
I care a great deal about every detail. I want the things that I do to be excellent. Beautiful things inspire people. As an artist, it’s far more interesting for me to engage in crafting something elegant. The world is better when people care about excellence. But there’s something more here, something darker.
Perfectionism is a shield that hides fear of failure.
If something were truly perfect, it couldn’t fail, right? At least that’s our myth. I’ve known incredibly talented musicians who spent years tweaking their songs, rather than releasing them, and writers who will write and re-write and re-write, rather than let another human read their work. Failing to move forward is its own smothering failure.
Anne Lamott named this demon exactly when she wrote these words:
“Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life… I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping-stone just right, you won’t have to die. The truth is that you will die anyway and that a lot of people who aren’t even looking at their feet are going to do a whole lot better than you, and have a lot more fun while they’re doing it.”
Stop hiding from failure.
Fear of failure is the real enemy, and perfectionism is its voice. This fear results in paralysis or, in my case, eternal distraction. If the book never comes out, then I’ll never be critiqued on my concept, or my theology, or my writing style, or my font choice, or the hat I’m wearing in my picture. That feels so much safer.
It is safer, but it’s not life.
Steve Jobs is famously credited as saying “Real artists ship.” They do the thing they say they do. They write, or sing, or dance not in their bedroom, but out in the world where it matters.
Maybe you shouldn’t be allowed to call yourself a thing–a writer for instance–until you’ve done it in a place and time where your failure would matter, where others could judge your performance, where you had to push through the fear of being rejected and do the thing you love anyway, out in public where everyone can see.
My heart says, “I will be a writer, if I can just write exceptionally well,” but I don’t think that’s true. The truth is that I am a writer when I push through the fear of rejection and failure and share my writing with you. After all, we are all just rough drafts.
(Oh, hey! That’s the theme for this year’s conference: Rough Draft: From Blank to Beautiful! Letting go of perfectionism is a big part of that journey.)
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– Marc Alan Schelske is the Launch Coordinator and crazy-note-taking secretary for the 2015 Faith & Culture Writers Conference. He loved attending the 2014 event that he came back this year to help! He blogs about intentional spiritual living at Marc Alan Schelske
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