The Mess on the Way To Good Enough

"It's not the destination, it's the journey" has become a cliche, I know--but I still like it, as I do its relative, "Process, not product."

It helps me when I'm messing up to reflect on the fact that the doing of anything is its own messy and chaotic thing.  The doing of anything stirs up energy, takes me out of my head--where I'm conditioned to think "it" has to be perfect.

In writing groups, we do seven-minute timed writings on topics announced when we start.  We often marvel at the quality of the writing that happens in such a short time.  Maybe it's because we lower our expectations of ourselves and just write?

Last night I was painting a mirror frame.  First draft, was dull and blah.  Second draft, it got a bit perkier.  I added streaks of blue--and it was quite lovely, but not a fit for the space. So I went over it with touches of orange--which is where it is now.  The mirror frame has not yet reached the point where I stand back and gaze at my work with deep appreciation!  But at 11:00, I decided to hang it up for the night and go to sleep, see what it looked like in the morning.

I'll keep at it until I achieve the look I'm after; either that, or I'll discover in the process a look I didn't know I was after, and I'll be happy enough to stop.

In Janna Malamud's excellent book, An Absorbing Errand, which I haven't re-read in a while but think about often, she writes about the joy of being "absorbed" in something.  It can be a poem or a jigsaw puzzle or a garden--anything.  When we're absorbed, we're not obsessing over the dramas that pop into our heads; we're creating something new.

Watch children and you'll see what absorption looks like.  Maria Montessori, in The Child in the Family, advised teachers and parents not to overly praise their children for their tiniest accomplishments.  Rather, she likes to let the children find what absorbs their attention and do it for the inherent pleasure of the work.

When we're waiting for praise, we're not in the process of just doing what we love; we're doing whatever we're doing for the external approval of another.  I know this in writing--but I'm moving now into a different landscape.  With paint and brushes and pens, I tend to throw away my early efforts before I see what might emerge, magically, if I just keep moving colors on the surfaces of paper and wood.