My varsity football coach used to say, "The enemy of great is good"--a mantra that's echoed in my head for the past 15 years.
But lately, I've realized something crucial was missing from that idea. I'd expand it slightly:
"The enemy of great is good, and the enemy of progress is perfection."
As a creative, aiming for perfection can be tempting, but perfection shouldn't be the end goal. The truth is, perfection takes forever--if it's achievable at all. Real growth, I've found, comes from repeated attempts and continuous learning.
This insight clicked when I heard this story from "Art & Fear" by David Bayles and Ted Orland:
The ceramics teacher announced on opening day that he was dividing the class into two groups. All those on the left side of the studio, he said, would be graded solely on the quantity of work they produced, all those on the right solely on its quality. His procedure was simple: on the final day of class he would bring in his bathroom scales and weigh the work of the “quantity” group: fifty pound of pots rated an “A”, forty pounds a “B”, and so on. Those being graded on “quality”, however, needed to produce only one pot — albeit a perfect one — to get an “A”. Well, came grading time and a curious fact emerged: the works of highest quality were all produced by the group being graded for quantity. It seems that while the “quantity” group was busily churning out piles of work – and learning from their mistakes — the “quality” group had sat theorizing about perfection, and in the end had little more to show for their efforts than grandiose theories and a pile of dead clay.
Skeptical but intrigued, I decided to test this myself. I'm now 28 days into a challenge to build a new website every day for 30 days, and I'll be damned--they were right.
Failing quickly has taught me more than I ever imagined, allowing me to discard dead ends without guilt and prioritize promising ideas. It's been so transformative, I'm extending the challenge for another 30 days!
Perfection paralyzed me for years, but embracing fast, frequent failures has reignited my passion for learning and creating. I'm grateful for every failure that's led me here.
To anyone reading this: I wish you swift failures--and the incredible growth that comes from them.