Sunday, November 10, 2013
Oh. My. Goodness.
You know that feeling when you leave the house, and you just KNOW you're forgetting something? Something important? And the minute you've passed the point of no return...
WHAM! It hits you.
Yeah, that's me right now. Except it's not just one thing. It's everything. I feel like my mind is being stretched in all directions and consequently, I'm not grasping anything. This is why I list. I'm the first to admit it. I'm a huge lister. I have lists of lists I want to make.
But seriously, I have to list things out, or I will forget. My auditory skills are little more than nil, and while I fare slightly better with remembering things I've seen, my best bet is to have something that I can refer to. Something to which I can refer. My poor language skills have been bugging me lately.
And I've just proved my point. I feel like an A.D.D kid that just stole a truck of Red Bull. No concentration. No focus. Just this nagging, needling thought that I am forgetting a lot of very important somethings. Excuse me while I glue a notepad to my hand for the day.
I even forget the point of this entry. I'd delete this now and skulk off to make another cup of tea, but I feel that I've come too far to just x out now. I just read a blog post about how we (as bloggers and writers, of all kinds) can sit and mull over a piece for the rest of our lives if we let ourselves. At some point, you have to just hit publish. And be done with it.
I fall into this all the time. Sure it's one thing to do a general proofread. But it's so easy to let editing for grammar turn into editing for content. Of course, you need flow. You can't bounce around your ideas like a pin ball table, but if you tweak this sentence here, and scrap that paragraph there, you could do that the rest of your life and never be satisfied.
Lesson learned. There is no perfect writing. As a perfectionist, I really don't like that. At all. But I know it's true. I know it's the reason why I have still not published anything. And I could. If I wanted. The problem is I don't. I want to chisel away, and work it down until I finally have the version I've always wanted. Vibrant word choice, flawless flow, perfection.
Unfortunately, it's not just the writing. Is it? It's the career making, and the family raising, the pound shedding, the dream chasing. It's life. We want so bad to become the versions of ourselves that we meet in our daydreams; the ones that have glowing skin, toned bodies, darling children, successful careers, admiring peers. The ones that do it all, without stress and yelling and emotional eating and procrastination and dusty shelves.
I once learned about this idea, called imperfect progress. It's really great, and I think someone should really look into marketing it. It's the idea that when you make progress, it doesn't mean you have to be perfect. Some days might be better than others, but whether you are striding forward with your chin up and chest out or you are barely dragging yourself through the dust on your arms, you are still making progress!
This was something of a revelation to me. I suppose that all my life I was under the impression that if you aren't making leaps and bounds with flying colors and other cliches, then it's not enough. It never occurred to me that progress, even at a death crawl, is still progress. It only ceases to be when you stop moving period.
It's why I love the quote "Dead last finish is greater than did not finish which trumps Did not start." This was also revolutionary to me. In a world so filled with competition and comparison, I knew I would never win any races. The gold medal of perfection would never be placed around my neck. And to think that even though I will never attain the unattainable, so long as I try, I have not lost.
That's a nice comfort, is it not?
In light of my little speech, I think I will get started. It only takes one step to make progress, and I think I can take several today. So long as I have my list :)