It’s time to get meta.
So, it looks like I’ve finally embarked on my blogging journey - just seven years behind schedule.
Yup, I first toyed with the idea of launching a blog all the way back in 2013, but just never took the proverbial plunge. At the time, I was living in Mexico of all places - a beautiful country, where I was lucky to live out some of my most exciting adventures to date. I was practically bursting at the seams with stories about my new life, about a life lived in a different language in a faraway land. If it sounds like a fairytale, that’s because it pretty much was.
And yet, I was keeping this particular fairytale to myself. Despite being a lifelong writer, I never fired up the blog. Why?
Fear.
Fear of publishing mediocre work. Fear of publishing work that no one would want to read.
I was a perfectionist. My work needed to be ‘just right’ and ‘absolutely perfect’ before it went anywhere near the public sphere. I didn’t publish work that didn’t meet the certain (unattainable) high standards I had set for myself. And so, I didn’t publish anything. Fear stopped me in my tracks.
And I wish it hadn’t. I wish I’d started earlier. I know life should be lived without regrets, but I certainly have a few. And right up there, taking the top spot, is not starting this blog in 2013. I was just never ‘ready’.
Until now.
So, what’s changed? How did we finally end up here, at blog post #7?
A simple (to articulate) mindset shift.
In a bid to escape perfectionism’s incessant vicious cycle, I found myself trawling through multiple catchphrases from the world of technology - a world known to move fast, innovate faster. While most quotes weren’t particularly actionable, what quickly became clear was the common thread that held them together, perhaps best articulated in the phrase:
‘Real artists ship.’
This simple yet powerful aphorism, most often attributed to the late Steve Jobs, has helped me to finally tame those pesky perfectionist tendencies. The idea behind it? As a creator, creating is just half the work. You also have to ‘ship’ - serve up your work on a platter, for the world to see, for the world to interact with. Deliver. Publish. No matter what. Whether you think you’re ready or not.
So, essentially, if I wanted to write, I had to do just that - write. I could no longer hold out for supposedly ‘perfect’ writing. I’d have to just start, and trust that the quality would follow. All great creators started somewhere - Picasso and PewDiePie likely didn’t have ‘ideal’ conditions when they began their journeys, but they published anyway. Their work improved as they continued to ship, fuelled by a healthy diet of practice and feedback.
Shipping also dovetails neatly with consistency. When this blog finally came to life two months ago, I knew I wanted to publish consistently, offering a reliable space of respite for friends and family to retreat to every week or every fortnight. So, delaying a post simply because it wasn’t quite ‘there’ yet? Out of the question.
For obvious reasons, this mindset shift hasn’t been overly easy to implement. As a perfection-chaser, the concept of publishing imperfect work didn’t sit well with me initially. With most of my work - this very piece included - I find myself in an infinite tug-of-war, torn between the need to write impeccably and the need to just publish. But I’ve slowly started to accept that writing, like any form of art, is a constant work-in-progress. As a creator, you have to become comfortable with your work not turning out exactly as you envisaged.
So, my writing process is now nothing more than pen - polish - publish - no repeat. No looking back, no more of those ‘one last edit’ excuses. Once my work is out there, I let people interact with it how they will - and it works. Last week, I put up a very personal piece on identity. I didn’t think it was particularly ‘perfect’ or ‘ready’, but I went ahead and published, regardless. The post has now become the blog’s most popular so far, its words resonating with friends across the world.
So, it looks like I’ve finally learnt that perfectionism doesn’t publish. Perfectionism doesn’t win. Shipping wins.
Of course, it may be very easy to say this now, when our world is at a standstill of sorts, a standstill that has allowed me ample time to write, to edit. But that’s why I’m focused on fine-tuning the art of shipping now, before I get caught up, once again, in the usual medley of commutes, dinners, and travels. Now I know that, when I do tumble back into that life, and I simply won’t have the time to endlessly squirrel away on a piece, I’ll be okay. I’ll post it, regardless.
When is work fully ready? Is it ever ready? The more I write, the more I know: the answer is no. Nothing is ever finished. To avoid publishing your work until it is ready is to surrender to perfectionism - at the cost of progress. So, I’m working to strike a balance. A balance between putting out great work and publishing consistently. It’s a mindset shift at breakneck speed.
But the best part of all of this? I have surprised myself. I have discovered that I can follow Jobs’ philosophy and still put out good work. When it’s time to write, I just let it flow - the ideas, the thoughts, the emotions, blending together in a haphazard, imperfect cocktail of prose.
As writing goes, I have a long road ahead of me. I hope that, every time I publish a piece on this blog, it’ll be a little better, a little sharper, a little more engaging than the last. And I find great satisfaction in knowing that this is just the beginning. The possibility of exponentially improving my writing, improving my craft, is exhilarating - and it’s a possibility that only opened up on 31st March 2020, when I finally decided to press ‘publish’.
Is there a project you’ve been meaning to start but haven’t, for fear of not being ‘ready’ or ‘good enough’?
Just start. Hit record, press publish, do what it takes to get your work out there - no matter what.
What’s the worst that could happen?
Until next time,
S