Choosing done over perfection

Waiting until the timing is perfect or wanting to do things perfectly can be a major hold-up when trying to live a simpler life. 

Kids are masters at giving things a go, what is it that causes self-doubt to creep in as we get older? 

Some people might be waiting to make a shift in their lives until they live in a place with a bigger yard, or until they have read alllll the books about preserving before giving it a shot. Perhaps you're saving to buy a fandangled piece of equipment so you can do something the 'best' way. But I'm not a big fan of perfection. Mostly, because perfection is an unrealistic goal. We are imperfect humans so achieving perfection in anything we attempt is an unlikely outcome. 

For most of history, humans have been growing, harvesting, drying cooking and preserving food with simple tools. The kinds of tools that are readily available to you and me. They would hand sew things for the house, make soap and look after their homes using what they had. Upcycling wasn't trendy, it was a normal and necessary part of life. Buying anything new was considered a luxury. It is easy to look at the past, especially those of us who haven't lived it, with rose-coloured glasses. Although I don't want to go entirely back to the ways of old, considering our consumption more carefully before we shell out our hard-earned dollar bucks on any items would certainly do us and the environment a lot of good. 

 

The banana cake rose unevenly due to not pre-heating the oven properly, but it was delicious anyway. 

You don't have to have the best of something for it to still be good. Herbs can be dried by popping them in paper bags and storing them in the car which acts as a dry heat source. Or they can be tied in bundles and hung to dry in the home. If you have a lot of herbs you can spread them on trays, put your oven on the lowest setting and dry them that way.

Let me share an example of doing something despite it being imperfect. About 18 months ago Grant started laying flooring in our yurt. He did the kitchen/lounge/dining area/loft and it looks fabulous. But then there was a buckle in the flooring he didn't know how to fix and he was worried the floor in the master bedroom wasn't entirely level in one spot. Because of that, the progress on the flooring stalled. He wanted to get it just right. While he pondered how to finish the job well, he left a stack of timber taking up precious room in the yurt. I won't lie, this situation caused me great frustration. Mostly I tried to ignore it but occasionally I would stub my toe on the timber and express that frustration. I couldn't see the issue with the floor he was concerned about and the reality is we live in a yurt, not a show home. Our home is never going to be perfect. 

Simple baseless GF quiche. Good simple food. 

But a week or so ago he decided to get cracking and finish it off, imperfect subfloor and all. And you know what? It looks great and is coming along brilliantly. The issue he was concerned about was less of an issue than he had convinced himself of, and that buckle in the floor he had been wondering how to fix? Well, he made a small cut in the buckled join with an angle grinder, and the board popped back neatly into place. Unless you look closely, you would never know there had ever been an issue.

 
I'm not entirely sure what made him decide to get cracking on it, given the issue he was worried about hadn't changed. I suspect it was a reminder to 'just do it' after watching a YouTube clip about a fellow who is building a homestead in the UK, similar to what we hope to do here. The fellow has built some great little natural building structures on his property. One was a timber-framed round house with an earthen roof. He and his mates got together and started building and he had set them an 8-week deadline. When people would start debating about how to do something better or try to make an improvement that hadn't been part of the plan, he would remind them "8 weeks! This has to be done in 8 weeks!" Due to the mentality of done over perfect, the big project was completed within the 8-week timeline. It was a wonderful little structure too. Creating self-imposed deadlines was a method he used regularly on his property. They would set themselves a deadline, do what they could in that timeframe and then move on to the next task. I really liked the philosophy and goodness they had achieved a lot and were doing some very cool things. 

It was a reminder to me that things don't have to be perfect to still be great. We don't have to have all the answers before we start and often, getting the job done the best we can is more than good enough. I know I have fallen into the trap of holding off from starting things not believing I had the knowledge or experience.  Or I would start and then lose momentum in the middle when things are looking their worst. For example, the first coat of paint on something looks terrible, the second looks ok, but the third is what really makes the difference. Or take writing. I can have a great idea in my head, then as I sit to get it on paper it can be a mess of redlines and jumbled thoughts. Sometimes after I have done a big brain dump of an idea I can look at it and wonder if there is anything worth salvaging in there. But if I  persist past the initial jumble, links form between the thoughts and with a bit of editing and shuffling a readable article or blog post begins to shore up. 

It seems to me that in the middle of most things worth doing, there is often a big old mess. It's at this point where we need to have a bit of confidence, determination and self-belief to fall back on to get us through. 

But how do we get to the point of feeling utterly useless at something to being proficient? Well, it's a matter of learning as we go. Trial and error and seeking out those with wisdom in the areas we are looking to grow.  Just because we burn a loaf of bread, or cook a dodgy meal doesn't mean we can't cook. It means the oven was too hot, or we simply made a mistake in the cooking process. We all make mistakes, and unless we let them, they don't define who we are or reduce our potential. 

I have since cut the pieces out for this sewing project. 

Many, many years ago I bought a lovely jointed bear kit. The fur was mohair so it wasn't cheap. As a result, I was too nervous to cut it for fear of buggering it up. But this Christmas I am determined to finish it off for Elsie.  What was I thinking not starting? What was the worst that could happen? I could wreck material. Material that is otherwise languishing in my draw, and really what's the difference? Things are made to be used. In the scheme of what I could gain which is the enjoyment of tackling a great project and giving my child a special gift, the risk of failure suddenly seems less significant. 

Much love,
Emma
xx