We’ve all had those awful thoughts: what the hell should I write about today? What should I share? You know you want to put yourself out there – you just can’t see how to do it.
I know what you’re doing – because I spent years doing it. You’re waiting for that perfect idea to come along. It could be a gorgeously worded, insightful, funny blog post. Maybe it’s that perfectly framed Instagram shot that captures your best features just right.
That kind of fear paralysed me for a long time. I’ve started and shut down four blogs in the last four years. Want to know how I got over it? I gave myself the permission to fuck up.
If you’ve got your heart set on perfection, you’re going to be waiting a long old time to make anything. In fact, you’ve got to accept that whatever you create is never going to be perfect, seldom live up to how great you thought it was when the idea first occurred to you, and only rarely hit home the way you wanted it to.
That’s just life – we’re only human. We make mistakes. That’s where the beauty lies.
Maybe there’s some dimension out there where every book written is a literary masterpiece, every song a magnum opus. But it’s not this one. When we bring stuff into reality, we can’t help but lose some of that glossy, ephemeral sheen that our imagination coats our ideas in.
I picture the creative process like this: you’re slowly pulling a bucket of water up an incredibly old, impossibly deep well. All the bricks are soft and crumbling, and the rope is frayed and tired. Do you think you’re gonna get that bucket to the top without a load of water slopping out? Fat chance.
Instead of waiting for the perfect moment, just start small – and start now. Gary Vaynerchuk and Austin Kleon are great proponents of sharing the process of you working on your ideas: journals, plans, lists, sketches. It’s all great stuff. People love the journey.
And, when you finally get that glorious feeling of having created and shared something that you know is good, that really hits the spot: it will mean something much deeper.