Worth Doing Badly
"Anything worth doing is worth doing badly." This is one of my mantras, and it makes people feel all kinds of ways. But, as a serial perfectionist, repeating this to myself helps me keep moving forward, even when the possibility of failure seems overwhelming.
"Anything worth doing is worth doing badly."
This is one of my mantras, and it makes people feel all kinds of ways. But, as a serial perfectionist, repeating this to myself helps me keep moving forward, even when the possibility of failure seems overwhelming.
I repeated this mantra to the folks who attended my creative retreat last weekend, and for at least one of them, it was a revelation. She was very relatable, she has very high standards for herself, is very goal oriented and has seen success both professionally and within her creative discipline. Still, she was stuck. She wasn't participating in any of her hobbies, but she desperately wanted to.
I've been stuck so many times throughout my life.
For me, "Anything worth doing is worth doing badly," gives me permission to play. I can try new things without needing the first attempts to be perfect. I can struggle and work through problems at my own pace. In some cases (like with bowling and mini golf), doing something badly is more fun than perfecting my form and learning the "correct" way to do it. (There are a few people out there in the world who refuse to bowl with me because I'm there to have fun, not learn the way they think I should bowl.)
I also enthusiastically bring this mindset into my writing. Because sometimes an article or short story will persist at remaining a hot mess up until the point that it isn't. Embracing writing badly means that I can experiment with point of view, form, language. I can try out ideas I'm not quite sure about. It gives me permission to start stories and abandon them or make a mess and then make it worse and double down until I decide it's finished.
This "worth doing badly" practice has been a work in progress for many years. I think its origins are from college, when I discovered the goth club in Ybor City, The Castle. I fell in love with bad goth dancing and the freedom it gave me on the dance floor to move my body in any way I pleased. There were many nights back then that I danced until final call and then stumbled out into the early morning to continue dancing at an after party at someone's house.
So, as the year winds down, give yourself permission to lower the bar and embrace the bad. It's as good of a New Year's resolution as any.