Society strives for perfection too much. We retreat at the first sight of imperfection. Perfect apples. Perfect bodies. Perfect images. Perfect businesses. Perfect ideas. Can anything really be perfect stripped of its essence? Should anything be that perfect?
To be human is to be flawed. But to be flawed is not to be wrong, at least not insofar as we care about process. Flaws are rich and full. They are powerful and delicate. They are not only beautiful because they define us as much as or more than our perfections. They are powerful, because they propel us. We’re built that way. Our bodies kick in gear when things aren’t working. It disturbs, perturbs, bothers, and gnaws. It makes us improve. It keeps us up at night and enters our dreams. It makes us strive and compete. It is the little voice that never lets us down. It keeps us ticking.
Perfection is indeed the enemy. Bold ideas are always imperfect. They tread new ground. They break rules. We should push forward in these situations, not pull back. Don’t be afraid to fuck up a little. Don’t worry about being right enough. Worry about not being wrong enough.
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