Embracing Iteration

"Don't be too harsh, this is a work in progress."

I want to scrawl that across the top of everything I put online. Actually, scratch that: I want that on a shirt I wear every day.

Everything I do is a work in progress. Everything I make, every essay I write, every video I shoot. Essentially, I'm a walking, talking, very early beta-testing work in progress.

And for someone who publishes their work for the world to see, who creates with the intent of moving people to an appreciation of the beauty around them, this is a terrifying proposition, especially when the reality hits that this is how it's going to be for the rest of my life.

I'm stuck like this, stuck with an understanding that I'm not perfect. And then again, neither is anyone else. None of us actually have it figured out. We're all going through life step by step, just trying to piece together enough understanding to find moderate success in our daily tasks.

But I'm not here to depress you. I'm here to show you why this understanding is a good thing, and how we can change our viewpoint to embrace our imperfections to make the world a better place.

Understanding imperfection, our lot in life

As the phrase goes, "nobody's perfect." It's cliche and time-tested. It's literally in Scripture, saints and philosophers have said it for time immemorial, and yet, here we are, unconvinced of our human state of being, expecting everything we do to be 100% perfect from the get-go.

I'm not the only one who goes through this (at least, I hope I'm not). And something I've found that's fascinated me is how often the ones who are seemingly the most perfect are, at the same time, the ones who recognize their imperfection far more deeply than the rest of us.

It seems as if the people among us who are most in tune with their own imperfections, understanding them and embracing them, are the ones who find a rhythym that is closest to perfection itself.

And I don't think that's a coincidence or a mistake. It's what we all have to learn to do if we ever want to move past the initial horror of seeing ourselves how the rest of the world sees us: imperfect, flawed, and prone to a billion mistakes, small and large.

The first step towards this embrace is understanding, as we see in the examples of the holiest and most seemingly-perfect people, who, in spite of their apparent perfection, consistently embrace the fact of their own mistakes.

Mistakes, repetition, and the joy of iteration

With imperfection being the lot of all of us, we're confronted with a problem: what can we share with the world if everything we do is imperfect?

My answer: everything!

In fact, I'd go so far as to argue that sharing the imperfect work we make is a far better gift to the world as a whole than whatever perfect creation we'd be able to put together.

Every "perfect" thing we see is the result of endless iteration, built on a foundational understanding of initial imperfection. By sharing something with flaws, we discover the beauty hidden in our weakness. And by iteration, we improve on our mistakes, growing closer and closer to the ever-elusive perfection.

But, since we know perfection is unattainable, our goal for our work shouldn't be perfection. It should be improvement.

I would actually go so far as to say that creative work is most worthwhile because of the iterative aspect. When we create something, we learn. We learn about ourselves, about our craft, and about the subject matter at hand. We uncover the details of someone we photograph, of a landscape we paint, of a story we tell. Iteration teaches us what we're good at - and what we aren't, and it gives us a chance to continually improve ourselves by unveiling where we fail and giving us a chance to grow by using those mistakes as steps towards a more beautiful future.

How to get iterating in your own work (and how I'm doing it myself)

"That's great TJ, super cool that you know how bad you are at things, but how does this help me?"

Great question, imagined reader. I'll tell you: start being okay with "unfinished" work.

This doesn't mean you have to share everything before it's "finished." It also doesn't mean that all your work should be in an unfinished state when you give up on it.

What it means is that no piece of art ever feels finished. And we, as creatives, need to be okay with that, relying on the ability to iterate and improve instead of expecting a perfect, finished piece. Constant iteration on something is the key to improving, and while a work may never be "finished," there's something beautiful about the work of iteration and returning to a project time and time again.

In fact, this "creative maintenance" can teach us more than the initial acts of creation in the beginning, and, I would argue, constitute an important piece of the creative process that's often overlooked in a culture focused on perfect, constant output rather than iterative, thoughtful work done over long periods of time.

I'm reminded of something I read over on the Doist blog, written by Elaine Meyer, that's stuck with me for some time now:

"We inhabit a culture that privileges novelty and growth over the cyclical and the regenerative. Our very idea of productivity is premised on the idea of producing something new, whereas we do not tend to see maintenance and care as productive in the same way."

Our culture values newness while also emphasizing an expectation of perfection, two concepts that cannot coincide. The "maintenance" that Meyer talks about is the iteration I've been explaining: it's okay to come back to work, recognize its imperfection, and continue to improve it years later.

I'm doing that right now, in fact. You're reading this blog (thanks, by the way, and if you told your friends I'd appreciate it). This post, as it stands, is not perfect. There are errors, sentences that don't make sense, and maybe even word choices that I'll return to and decide "ew, I hate that."

That's part of the process. Over time, I'll continue to return to the posts on this site, especially the ones I love to have written, and I'll continue to improve them. The hope is that, as I continue to grow and learn, all my work here can continue to grow better as well.

We are not stagnant people, meant to make something and be done with it. Creative work is only finished when we decide we're finished with it. It's okay to return, to improve, to iterate, and to maintain. It's good, actually, to try to improve the work you've done, even when it's "finished" in the eyes of the world.

So go ahead. Make revisions to your book. Rework that brushstroke that annoys you in your painting. Refine that code block that isn't working right. And always remember that the recognition of your mistakes or imperfections is not a negative, it's a positive, because without recognizing where you've gone wrong, there's no chance for you to make it better, even in the most minuscule of ways.