I used to think I had the patience of a saint but it turns out I am in a (never ending) race to the finish line - that is, with myself. But someone once reminded me that the finishing line of life is my own impending mortality. Which is a bit depressing - so I’ve pulled it back to wiggling-anticipation. I’m on the edge of highly impatient; but (hopefully) in the right way. For years I agonised over perfection, obsessed over it and I eventually discovered, while an advantageous characteristic in a plastic surgeon or a professional knife thrower, it's actually a major hinderance as a creative.
In your quest for perfection it often means you reside in the perfect dwelling of finishing sweet FA. That's right, perfection is the direct route to procrastination town, with no stops to sign-off-ville and did I mention this train just goes in a massive loop? I’ll stop with the train analogy but you get the idea. To be a perfectionist is never really to complete anything because, in the completion, you'll always find something that could have been better. Something could have worked harder. Something could be more perfect and back to the drawing board you go. Read more