Nothing is ever meant to be perfect! What a beautiful process in opening up that channel, letting whatever comes in flow through you into your writings... It takes a lot of bravery to share in that way. I find it so mysterious/fascinating how certain ideas come to us when we’re open and receptive, almost as if they’re meant to be shared. Keep going! xx
The part about setting a high threshold for what merits posting and how that blocks creative energy really resonates. I've spent months perfecting travel guides before publishing them, convinced they need to be comprehensive and flawless, when what people actually need is something useful now rather than perfect later. Your glass metaphor is perfect - I treat my writing the same way, like it's fragile and precious instead of just ideas trying to find their way into the world. The irony of agonizing over an essay about time compression isn't lost on me either. I've been there, spending hours on posts about slow travel while racing against self-imposed deadlines. Maybe the practice is learning to let things be incomplete, to trust the process of refinement happens through doing rather than endless internal editing.
Thanks Maya, I'm grateful to hear your experience. Very relatable indeed. I also hope you can keep returning to the trust in your work and its meaning, regardless of the 'flaws' you think you might see in it. Also, some (a lot) of these tensions we feel come from outside, so there's also a need for kindness when we do catch the internal editor at work.
There's such clear self-awareness here, Rob, which I really enjoyed. The glass metaphor captures that mix of preciousness and fear perfectly, and the insight feels earned because it comes from doing, not theorising. Really thoughtful, grounded writing. Oh, and that photograph of your neighbourhoos is just STUNNING!
Thank you, Gabriela! And yes, on that very frosty day I think I knew straight away both the image and the feeling it created would find their way into this piece.
Nothing is ever meant to be perfect! What a beautiful process in opening up that channel, letting whatever comes in flow through you into your writings... It takes a lot of bravery to share in that way. I find it so mysterious/fascinating how certain ideas come to us when we’re open and receptive, almost as if they’re meant to be shared. Keep going! xx
Thank you, and you're totally right - for what would perfection mean, and would we finite humans even be able to comprehend it?
The bravery might come and go, but the intention is firm.
The part about setting a high threshold for what merits posting and how that blocks creative energy really resonates. I've spent months perfecting travel guides before publishing them, convinced they need to be comprehensive and flawless, when what people actually need is something useful now rather than perfect later. Your glass metaphor is perfect - I treat my writing the same way, like it's fragile and precious instead of just ideas trying to find their way into the world. The irony of agonizing over an essay about time compression isn't lost on me either. I've been there, spending hours on posts about slow travel while racing against self-imposed deadlines. Maybe the practice is learning to let things be incomplete, to trust the process of refinement happens through doing rather than endless internal editing.
Thanks Maya, I'm grateful to hear your experience. Very relatable indeed. I also hope you can keep returning to the trust in your work and its meaning, regardless of the 'flaws' you think you might see in it. Also, some (a lot) of these tensions we feel come from outside, so there's also a need for kindness when we do catch the internal editor at work.
There's such clear self-awareness here, Rob, which I really enjoyed. The glass metaphor captures that mix of preciousness and fear perfectly, and the insight feels earned because it comes from doing, not theorising. Really thoughtful, grounded writing. Oh, and that photograph of your neighbourhoos is just STUNNING!
Thank you, Gabriela! And yes, on that very frosty day I think I knew straight away both the image and the feeling it created would find their way into this piece.