Annihilate Perfectionism
So a few years ago, I took this drawing class.
I showed up with my shiny sketchbook and newly sharpened pencils and a gigantic stack of erasers of every variety.
I was ready to become that person who sits in cafes, sipping coffee and sketching the scene around me.
Cue the Edith Piaf.
The first thing the instructor did after she arrived and went through the obligatory introductions was hand all of us sharpies.
Then she told us our first exercise would be to sketch her face, in permanent-freaking-marker, on the very first page of our sketchbook.
I was horrified, of course.
I double checked that I was in the right place…I had signed up for a beginner’s class. I didn’t know the first thing about drawing. Nothing.
This was unfair. This was a travesty. This was…what we were doing, apparently.
She said we’d have 10 minutes, then clanged a bell to signal the start.
Everyone around me simply got to it, so I took a deep breath and began.
I wish with all my might that I had that drawing to share with you, because everyone could use a laugh right now and the result of my first ever portrait would definitely do the trick.
It was an absolute abomination. Some sort of hybrid stick-figure-meets-boardwalk-caricature-meets-mr-potato-head.
And it was on the first page of my beautiful leather-bound sketchbook that I’d spent an hour agonizing over choosing.
I could hear the accordion notes of La Vie en Rose fading quickly.
Then the instructor asked us to raise our hands if we felt that we’d “messed up” our drawings.
Every single hand shot up.
“Good,” she said, “now we can begin the real work.”
The goal, she explained, was to "annihilate perfectionism."
To begin to turn our sketchbooks into places to experiment and explore and try new things, free from any expectation. Our sketchbooks were already messed up now, so we no longer needed to worry about them. She'd set us free.
“Mistakes are absolutely essential to creating,” she repeated over and over and over during the course of that class.
And although I am still an abysmal artist (it would definitely help if I, ummmm, ever practiced), that exercise has stayed with me since that day.
Sometimes we need to mess things up to annihilate perfectionism.
2020 has, for many of us, been an exercise in just that.
We’ve had to pivot, and pivot again.
Adjust to everything from cancelled events to cancelled livelihoods.
And we’ve made some mistakes along the way.
(Remember the woman who turned herself into a potato on a video call and ended up having to go through her entire work meeting that way? We see you Lizet Ocampo and we absolutely LOVE you for that!)
2020 has had absolutely zero tolerance for perfectionism.
And I’m wondering lately if that might not be one of the very best things to come out of this year.
If we’re going to suffer through the hardships of this year, we might as well embrace the freedoms, too.
Nothing is what we expected. Expectations have been dashed.
The very first year of this shiny, beautiful, leather-bound decade got all "messed up." In permanent-freaking-marker.
Congratulations.
We’re free.
We’re free to give things our very best shot and to forgive ourselves if they don’t go according to plan.
We’re free to experiment. Explore.
We’re free to create. Uncover. Unlock.
Embrace.
Thursday begins our final 3 months of the year.
12 weeks.
90 days.
You know that’s my very favorite bit of time to work with, right?
Enough time to make real progress and not enough to get distracted or screw around.
I have every intention of making mine revolutionary. Creative. Radical.
Because why not?
Why not let this dumpster fire of a year burn away the last of our self-doubts, the last of our reticence, the last of our damned perfectionism?
And I really, really want you to do the same.
So I’m doing something I’ve never done.
I’m offering a crazy deal on my Momentum Sessions between now and this Sunday at midnight.
Use coupon code LAST90DAYS for $650 off…that’s a Momentum Session for only $347.
Yeah, I know— crazytown.
But I want to fill the last 90 days of my year with clients who are ready to embrace the freedom that comes with annihilating perfectionism. Who are ready to finally write their books, or start a mindfulness practice, or launch a business, or show up fully in their relationships, or move across the country, or just finish this year crystal clear about what matters to them and what doesn’t.
Look.
Never forget that you are allowed to do this in whatever way works for you.
Creativity can be loud or very, very quiet.
It can be revolutionary to simply utter the word “no” when you need space.
For too many of us, true self-care can feel like a radical act.
I’m behind you, however it looks for you.
And if you find yourself getting drawn back into perfectionism, feel free to draw my face with a sharpie or, you know, turn yourself into a potato for your next Zoom call.
I’m there for it.
Stay curious out there, my friends.