Today, I’d like to share a personal story which some of you out there may just be able to relate to.
I’d forgotten something recently. Amidst a bevy of changes in my life, both professional and personal, I found myself at what seemed to be a never-ending crossroads. The choices I was facing were a million miles away from those I faced at the beginning of my career. Back when the main hurdle wasn’t whether to go right or left. Back then, the main hurdle was whether to go at all. In the beginning, I was fighting the greatest villain of them all: doubt. Not doubt about my dreams, but a question of whether or not I really had the stuff to make my dreams come true.
It took years to build up the courage to quit my day job and pursue my dream. The delay wasn’t all bad. It gave me the time to improve my skills and find my artistic voice, both of which would be necessary if I had any hope of slaying the dragon. When I finally did take the leap, as it so often does, the universe opened itself up to me. I always say that if you fully commit to your goal and announce to the world your intentions, the world has a funny way of hearing you and trying to help you along your way. This was certainly the case with me. After years of sitting on the fence, finally allowing myself to go 100% in the direction that I knew deep in my heart was the only direction I wanted to go led to new opportunities suddenly arising. Where previously there were only vague hopes and dreams, I found myself presented with opportunities to prove my worth. To the market. And to myself.
I was hardly perfect at first. I’m hardly perfect now. But one of the key moments back at the beginning that allowed me to finally take the chance that would ultimately lead to success was when I realized a simple truth: life is about progress, not perfection.
Now, I know what you’re saying. “What a cliché!” But things generally become cliché because they are based in truth.
Not that it was particularly easy for me to follow my own advice. I am a perfectionist by nature. When I was in high school and playing quarterback on an undefeated championship team, it was not at all uncommon for us to be blowing out the opposition by multiple touchdowns but for me to still be on the bench berating myself for having thrown a single incomplete pass. I was, shall we say, “unreasonable” in my expectations. It’s not one of my better qualities, but, admittedly, this drive for perfection has worked to my advantage in my career. Not, mind you, that I’m saying I’ve ever achieved perfection. Rather, as they say, “If you shoot for the moon, you’ll at least end up among the stars.” Setting a high standard for yourself can help you keep yourself on track. Then again, when you don’t quite live up to your own high standard, even objective success can sometimes feel like failure.
To be clear, the crossroads I mentioned facing earlier had little to do with success or failure. Decades into my career, I no longer wondered whether I deserved to be in the game. Drastic changes in the market in recent years and coming technologies threatening to upend the status quo even further have definitely led me to often wonder aloud whether I still wanted to be part of the game. But I’ve been at this long enough to know that if there’s a will, there’s a way, and so long as you don’t throw in the towel early, we can all eventually figure it out.
So, no, this particular crossroads wasn’t rooted in doubt. This time around, decades into my career, the crossroads was about something equally difficult to resolve: choice.
Les Brown once said that (I’m paraphrasing here) many people living life at a 9 will never get to 10 because they are terrified of 8. What he meant by that is that many people get to 9 in life. They get right up to the edge of having everything they ever wanted in life. They are this close. Almost there. Whatever “there” means to them. But in order to go that last leg, to clear that final hurdle, they have to build the nerve to put their chips back on the table. They have to take a risk that might lead to them losing all of the gains they’ve made so far in order to take that final step. In their head, they build up the risk as them losing everything. But in actuality, it’s far more likely to be a matter of dropping from 9 to 8 (as opposed to going back to level one). Yet they are so afraid of going back that single step that they deny themselves the opportunity to achieve the level 10 they’ve always wanted by not taking the final risk necessary to take them over the top.
It’s not illogical behavior. It’s easy to assume that big decisions are easier once you already have some accrued success beneath your feet than when you are first starting out. But the truth is, while having years of experience does often grant you a stronger platform from which to jump, it also means you have more to lose. When I was first starting out, just trying to convince myself that I could do it in the first place, the only thing I was really risking was my own ego and perhaps the slight embarrassment of having to return to my day job. Making a major career decision several years in, once you already have a lot of hard-earned “success,” can feel like you are wagering a lot more than hopes and dreams. What if it doesn’t work out? What if you’ve squandered all those years of sacrifice and reputation building to pursue this new dream that may or may not come true? What if striving for 10 only results in you falling back to 8? Or 7? Or 6?
But even asking myself that question, I had lost sight of the first big lesson that helped me to gain success in the first place. Life is about progress, not perfection. Trying to hold onto a perfect record where I didn’t throw any incomplete passes was actually holding me back. I was afraid to throw the Hail Mary because I couldn’t be 100% sure it wouldn’t be intercepted. My caution was holding me in a gilded cage built on past accolades. But my fear of risking those trophies was preventing me from claiming an even bigger one. The one I wanted all along.
The greatest part of being an artist is that you are eternally in the growth phase, never the end product. You might feel like the end product once you’ve mastered the technical aspects of your craft and built a reputation in the industry. But the greatest of artists continue to grow and evolve throughout their career. What they want from their art in the beginning isn’t always the same thing that is going to satisfy them in the end. Art, like life, is a story of constantly reinventing yourself to move forward.
I’m hardly “great.” But I am human. And, as a human being, growth is in my nature. Dreams are par for the course. And occasional failure is inevitable. By reminding myself that the journey is about progress, not perfection, I ultimately allowed myself to continue to move ahead. Will this new path be as fruitful as the last one? I have no idea. But happiness is in the striving. So full steam ahead.
