At the end of February, there was a confluence of activity here at Original Impulse. I wrote a vulnerable article for you. My web site, that I’ve been working on since October, went live. That caused my email to go down. Also, an RSS feed for my blog got triggered and started sending out blog notices to people who hadn’t heard from the blog since 2014. It had an old image from 2010.
All of this vulnerability and technical glitches caused a profound mortification in me. You know the type, the visceral, “Where can I hide?” feeling.
Luckily, I had the good fortune to speak with a dear friend the day of the clusterfluff. She said, This is true imperfection. This is not you having an experience and writing about it later. It’s real time, real imperfection.
This was the best thing she could say to me. She asked what was I had imagined would happen or what would it mean if the world saw that I am not perfect.
In theory, I know I am not perfect. But in business, I seek to execute my actions at a high level of, well, perfection. No typos, no glitches. I do what I say I will do and seek to do it well.
But this need for perfection is a joy killer and a creativity crusher. In my writing groups, and with my clients, I help them wrestle down the need to be perfect. To write or say things perfectly. To make sure their work is ‘good enough’.
While I understand and share this hope for ‘good’, I also know that perfection is the enemy of beginning. We don’t start that essay because we know we don’t have the words figured out exactly. We don’t initiate that difficult conversation because we don’t know what to say. We don’t start our business because we don’t know how to do all the steps well.
The act of making anything is deeply humbling. We bump up against our limits. We face our ignorance – our not knowing how to do something. We find that we need help.
But isn’t that all the best? Dumping the idea of perfection allows us to tap into our truest and richest humanity. We become someone who is trying something – how cool is that?! Someone connected to everyone else who has braved something! Someone who embraces their humanness by reaching out and asking for help.
If you only dare something that you can do perfectly, I invite you to try anyway. Write that imperfect story. Have that messy conversation. Make that completely wonky drawing.
Use me if you’d like as a reminder that you can and will survive the imperfections. Even if you put it out there and omg make a mistake, you will survive. I survived my launch glitches, and was even able to laugh about it.
What about you? Have you survived imperfect creative efforts? Share your experience below.

“perfection is the enemy of beginning. ” This post is perfectly imperfect, Cynthia. Sharing! Thank you for the reminder.
My pleasure!
I hear you Cynthia and appreciate your openness. In my current project, I raised the white flag last week —bringing in associates to help. To admit that I’m not perfect and that I need help is super humbling but powerful at the same time. Thank you for starting this conversation!
Antonia,
How cool is that, humbling and powerful at the same time? Oh, to be human!
Good work connecting with others for help. I’m proud of you.
Thank you for joining the conversation!
My imperfect self is in the throes of fighting that perfection monster right now as I work on my website due to launch this spring. I’m a writer/editor at a newspaper by day (soul-destroying work these days in a small community) and a writer/editor in my private life as I work to launch my business. Thank you for sharing your experience. It helped boost my often sagging morale.
Rhonda,
I GET it! Making a web site is a million decisions and a million details. As an editor, you have an extra layer of making sure it’s all perfect.
I am sure it will be great, and there will be some imperfections. You will survive it!
Good luck to you and your business. Come back here and leave a link when the site is up. The world needs more good editors and writers!
It’s so hard for me to dump “Mr. Perfect” . I have ruined some wonderful paintings thinking that it needed more and then some more. I have to work very hard to not listen to this ingrained perfection that lives inside of me. I need to DUMP the idea of perfection! Thank you for this post, Cynthia.
I LOVE your new website!
Dora,
Thank you – I love the new site, too!
For me, when I am seeking a change like this on the mental plane, what has helped is having a short phrase that I can use to replace the old, trashy thinking. Something like, “good to go” “Good enough” “It’s good as is”. “I don’t know if it’s perfect, but I like it as is.”
Something short and definitive so you can hear it and remember, oh, yea, I am not about being perfect.
Your art is fabulous and has somehow survived Mr Perfect’s bad influence. 😉
Thank you!
Thanks for sharing this is so true and we are all “Good enough!”