I admit it, things have a been a little slow over on One Empty Shelf recently. Inspiration hits all at once, then leaves me dry, hanging, sometimes for weeks at a time. And during those weeks, I’ve been getting a little complacent. I’ve been tempted, lured down the path of feeling that everything is, well, OK. It’s fine. It’s good enough.
And that’s a problem.
Good enough is fine.
Fine is OK.
OK isn’t amazing.
OK isn’t fantastic.
OK, is, well, halfway. It’s not quite there. It’s ‘it’ll do’. I don’t want my life to be a long string of ‘it’ll do’. I want my life to be incredible. I want it to be amazing. I want it to be worth living, an endless adventure. So why is it so hard to get out of the mindset of ‘good enough’?
When things aren’t going wrong, it’s tempting to kid ourselves that they’re actually going right. But making progress, moving forwards to where we want to be, is an entirely different ball game from things being just fine. Fine is our comfort zone. And when we’re comfortable, good enough tends to be just that. Enough. But barely.
What about those big dreams, those huge plans, the ones that flood the skies with joy and blind us with excitement? What about the truth that lies deep inside our souls, waiting to be spread through the world, dipping and soaring and taking our essence along with it? Good enough floats along, eddying in beige half-light. Good enough has not a care in the world. Good enough waits and watches every second of that important time fly on by, with a benign smile and marshmallow thoughts.
Good enough isn’t good enough for me.
I feel the anger at my impotence start to bubble, deep down low. I feel frustration at inaction, months of flippant shrugs, dismissive plans, half-ideas and dispassionate conversation.
I dig deep and feed that fire and bring those feelings to the surface, living through them tenfold. I build that wave, gathering all that latent energy, hoping against hope to build a way to drag me out of the bubble, the ‘good enough’ bubble, where things are just OK and just fine and…just. so. cloying.
The wave needs to be big, really big. A tsunami of emotion, a big push, a massive call to action for this colourless soul. I’ve tried riding this tide before, the swell dying away before I reach land, watching hopes and dreams waving to me from the shoreline.
Gather solid, truthful reason. Catch that ‘why’ that’s fluttering around your head, and bury it deep inside. Add a pinch of momentum, a pathway of ever-bigger steps, and shake it all about. Feel the emotion within and add a liberal splash of colour. Enhance and amplify, feel the swell, feel your reason burn and linger in that moment. Stand up and promise that this wave will drag you out of ‘OK’, wash you up on that tideline, fresh and clean and still moving forwards, to action, to future.
I fuel my imagination and fire up that tool, my strength, my superpower. Take my flimsy reasons and shock myself with a real, truthful, bare why. A real why. One I can’t ignore. I paint bright, vivid colours and grab that inaction, fistfuls of false starts and all the frustrations that go alongside.
I add it to the wave and stir and stir and stir.