
Oliver Burkeman, in a great post for his The Imperfectionist blog, writes about why it’s hard to get started on, well, almost anything, whether it’s your dreaded end of the month report or your passion project. He credits social scientist James Horton for identifying why people who’d like to do more writing fail to do that writing. Horton blames “misguided beliefs about what writing must be, in order to be worth it.” Things like only doing work that matters, finishing because you said you would, or feeling that you have to get it right the first time. If you’re a frustrated non-writer right now, you’re definitely nodding your head.
Horton calls these beliefs “toxic preconditions.” They prioritize the outcome over the process, and they stand between you and success even more than you consciously know.
I have a friend who has been a professional athlete and has been coached by some of the best college and professional coaches in the country. His mantra has always been “trust the process.” Work on your mental state, your technique, your skills, and your goal for the play or for the game. The results will follow.
Jacksonville hosts The Player’s Championship, one of the PGA’s most prestigious events, every year we just finished the event March 15.) Golfers are an example of athletes who know they can’t control the conditions under which they’re playing. The course and weather can vary from one day to the next, even from morning to afternoon. They focus on their game, short and long, trusting the process to help them play the round they know they’re capable of.
But many of us are focused on the outcome rather than the process. That usually wakes up our inner critic and perfectionist overseer, who are toxic partners in the process. They do not trust the process; they believe that the only thing that matters is the outcome – that performance is a pass/fail dichotomy. There’s no A for effort, no most improved award. No baby steps.
Burkeman writes, “As Elizabeth Gilbert puts it: ‘You are afraid of surrender because you don’t want to lose control. But you never had control; all you had was anxiety.’” Burkeman writes, “Getting past toxic preconditions is less a matter of being willing to step into the unknown than of realising that you’re already in the unknown. And that since the rest of your life will doubtless contain a mix of pains and pleasures anyway – in proportions you’re completely unable to predict – you’ve got less to lose by just doing the things you’ve been contemplating doing, or showing up for life in the manner that feels most sane, relaxed, and energising to you.”
Sane. Relaxed. Energized. Not many creative people would describe themselves mid-project that way. But it’s what we all aspire to be in our lives.
It’s why we fail at so many things that matter to us: changing our daily routines, starting a diet, building a sustainable exercise program. One “mistake,” “slip,” head cold, or bad day breaks the chain of success and turns into a hall pass for giving up. Burkeman writes, “And just like that, you’ve turned a system for living better into an obstacle to living better, because every time something gets in the way of the routine – whether an external interruption or the fact that you simply don’t feel like meditating or journaling this morning – you’ll find yourself feeling at a major disadvantage, and/or mired in self-criticism, with no option but to promise yourself you’ll start afresh tomorrow, and do things perfectly from then on.”
How do you get past the toxic preconditions? By jettisoning them and trusting the process. James Horton writes (about trying to write more) “In 2019 I changed. I started writing daily, and whoa hell did it upend my life. My notebooks filled with ideas that I upcycled into essays. I developed the unholy ability to finish term papers two weeks in advance. My writing powered me through drafts of academic articles, scripts for lectures, and well over a hundred articles, most written using a fountain pen.”
He broke through the barrier by pretending there was no barrier. Just write. Just do it, whatever it is. Done is always better than perfect. Every. Single. Time. You can always make it better later, but you can’t make something better that you never started.
Discover more from Your Work, Your Way
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
