Perfectionism, I do not know if this term exists, in case it does, I do not again know whether it is a boon or bane. In my case when I look into it, it’s actually a bane. And why do I call it a bane? Is it because it has stopped me from doing what I like or claim to like – Writing? I start and never finish it with a fear about “Is it going to be perfect? If not it will disappoint others?”
Being a writer in the group; not just a writer but a ‘Travel Writer’ which immediately can be defined as ‘One who travels only with a book, pen, experience and unpacks other things’. When I look into it, what is it that is stopping me from writing? I traveled around 3 cities, visited more than 20 NGOs in various fields, encountered dead bodies, drank chai with drug addicts and criminals – they smacked while I ate my ‘fan’(asalted namkeen that is had along with chai), welcomed by roses and rangoli at this remote village in Haryana by Mayo Community girls, walked along the streets with women who were behind a purdah most of their lives, witnessed how babies are left/abandoned in the cradle outside a gate in an NGO etc. to name a few. I have experiences to share, thoughts to flush, moments to capture and freeze into words. Yet, why is it taking longer than it is to put it forth?
Whenever I read a blog or a good article, immediately a thought knocks, like literally knocks saying what made you not think this? How the hell did he/she write that? How brilliant can she be? Why can’t my work be perfect like the one I just read? My writing goes a step behind. A gap between me and real writers is broadened. Hence, I distance myself putting these real writers on the pedestal and looking down upon myself. In the process, I forget to realize that all these ‘real writers’ also started off like me, probably few rare people come out of the womb with a pen and book in hand (How I wish I was one of them sometimes). They did not wake up one day and created a masterpiece out of nothing. They failed, they strived, they got up after falling, they started over and they improved – that shows their passion. That makes me question myself sometimes, have I ever looked back at my writing and thought “How did I ever come up with that?” What if I didn’t?
The answer I realized is – I should be more open to the world.
More open to absorb everything and anything, more open to be that ‘empty glass ready to be filled,’ get inspired, absorb the things that value my work and passion, knead them into my work. I do not know where the thoughts come from and I do not even know why they do. But I just want to use them all and see what happens.
Practice tirelessly and polish my skills to become perfect, but the real beauty comes from a source when I’m out of myself because, without imperfection there is no perfection. Accepted, that everything has flaws including nature. Probably, perfection can just be taken as a tool for that continuous improvement and not let it devour me. In order to create a good piece or something brilliant I need to be imperfect to come out of my comfort zone and just write. However it is …