I’m a creative person, but I don’t have a whole lot of finished work to show for it. At least, I don’t have much in comparison to what I dream up. Maybe you can relate.
So what’s holding me back?
Recently, I put a name to it: I’m a perfectionist.
Even before I begin to create I wonder if it’s the right time, or if I have the right equipment. After I get rolling I may not return for weeks or longer because the conditions aren’t ideal. When the project finally does near completion, I face discouraging fantasies of what it might have been if only I were a more skillful creator. I may re-work everything or never share the work at all. And, just like that, I’ve walked the rocks only to miss the mountain view.
I should note that aiming for excellence isn’t the same thing as perfectionism. Aiming for excellence feels healthier — like a desire to touch the divine — while perfectionism feels tied to a persistent belief of personal inadequacy. Perfectionism is like the tiny hole in my camping air mattress that leaves me restless whenever I adventure. Like the holey air mattress, it saps my energy and steals my dreams. Even as I write now I encounter unhelpful thoughts that promise things will remain the same no matter what I do.
When I’m conscious of the perfectionistic voice, its motivation seems transparently biased, like a creditor undervaluing my work before I’ve even begun. The Creditor’s not invited to many parties, but that doesn’t stop him from crashing my creative spaces and distracting me from the process.
“How much is this thing worth?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“I see. What does it do?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Interesting. Carry on.”
He climbs into his hot air balloon and watches me impatiently. To The Creditor, my finished work serves only to bolster or harm my ego, a part of me that he sees as deprived. He isn’t interested in originality or joy, his only concern is in the appraisal of my finished work and whether the final product can add value to (or damage) my ego. It’s harder to take risks when I listen to a voice that’s fixed on the value of the result while I am still in process.
The Tower Creditor’s big secret is that he isn’t a creditor at all. He works for me, and his role is to help me avoid “ego debts”, defined as a risk that leaves me potentially exposed. From that perspective, The Creditor isn’t an enemy at all, he’s more like an overzealous employee who raises alarms whenever I start doing anything interesting; when I speak from my authentic voice.
The Creditor will resort to (self) deception and (self) sabotage to hide my authentic voice when he feels there is too great a risk involved. He will even go so far as to generate elaborate fantasies in which I’ve already completed (?!) and shared my work and can rest contentedly. By setting the bar discouragingly high or low, or by offering reasons to avoid the work, he may limit my range of expression through unconscious means. If I’m not careful, I will follow this trail of breadcrumbs away from my potential and become cynical — a trapped soul.
How can I hope to truly connect without sharing from my authentic voice? To share, I need to take the very risks The Creditor’s asking me to avoid. Since my goals require sharing, I’ll simply remind The Creditor that his services aren’t needed right now. Maybe then he’ll relax (a little), either way I’m going forward.
I admire people who share. Humanity grows in unified consciousness through shared work. Although I am sometimes perfectionistic, I feel an urgency to act — and, importantly for my happiness, I am choosing to seek joy in the process over perfection in the result.
(to me : before you)
(before you)
Trust The Thread 