I often find myself perpetually in “edit” mode. Everything I do, everything I have, everything I am can always be improved.
Got an A? I’ll go for an A+.
Finished a race? I’ll work on doing it faster.
Think you’ve got a room decorated? Better make it look nicer.
There’s nothing wrong with making something better—that’s how great things are created. The trouble comes when things are never ENOUGH.
It’s a fine line between seeking improvement and seeking perfection…one I don’t often tread carefully. In fact, I usually seek perfection while telling myself I’m seeking improvement.
What does my kitchen have to do with this…at 1:30 am, I might add? Well, the timing was all Evan. I took this photo months ago when he and sleep were not the best of pals, and I needed a little change to scenery while I snuggled him back to sleep. In an effort to keep myself off of my phone, I was just looking around my house, thinking of projects to be done. (Because, of course, what was way more effective at my goal of being able to go back to sleep without my mind swimming with all the things I would absorb on social media.)
This table had just been moved. Well, rotated. I didn’t like it to start, then maybe liked it. I sat and looked at this table and decided we would need a new one. On top of the new light we’ve been talking about for nearly 2 years. On top of the floor that needs to be refinished. Next to the kitchen that needs a full makeover.
As a writer, I love a good edit. Often, I take that enjoyment into my life. Rearranging the way my kids’ clothes are organized? Yes, please. Developing a daily practice of clearing the unused items off of each shelf in my linen closet? I’m in.
You see, I can edit all day long and call it improvement, but, really, I’m searching for perfection I’m not going to find, because there will always be something else I can edit. This room? It will never be perfect. Even if I get the Pinterest-worthy remodel I’ve been picturing since the day we made an offer on this house, I will find something else that isn’t how I want it.
Sometimes, my propensity for editing is a valuable skill. But, often, I just need to decide that it’s time to put down the pen and appreciate what’s on the page.