Just Get Started: Love the Process and the Result will Follow

I have a confession to make: I procrastinate 😦

In fact, I’ve been thinking about starting a blog - or doing any kind of writing for that matter - for so long, I can’t really pin-point an origin. Which is why I wanted to start my blog with this topic - to kill the cycle of “soon” and “when I have a better plan” and rip off the proverbial band-aid; I wanted to live the lessons you’ll find below.

Our procrastination tends to be due to one or multiple of a number of ailments. Ailments like fear. Ailments like unpreparedness. Ailments like perfectionism. Even “not having time” can be a cover for some deeper issue. None of those things may sound like laziness, which we often attribute to procrastination, but I think often times, we say “Eh I’m too lazy…” when we mean something else entirely. For me, what might happen is I realize how unprepared I am for something and panic. I might I project past undertakings onto what I’m thinking of starting and see my potential to over-engineer it and drag it out. I may be afraid that beginning something new and big will change my life in ways I can’t predict or reverse.

When I start to feel these things too strongly, there’s a piece of me that just says to push it off.

To be clear, I think I’ve accomplished some pretty cool things, and have taken on some big challenges and come out on top. Often, though, this is in spite of my nature and thanks to some rethinking, not because I have the ideal make-up of a productive person.

Over the years I’ve reflected more and more, and I think my primary afflictions are overengineering, over planning, and general perfectionism. There’s no doubt in the minds of my family that I get this from my dad. I often think about the winter he spent at a furniture school in Maine. For his second project, he was informed by his teacher that what he had drawn up would likely be more than he’d have time to finish while still being able to complete the third and final project. My dad isn’t one to take on something in a small way when there’s so much more potential to extract.

Sure enough - he had to drive a big entryway table all the way back to Minnesota and finish it in the basement. But it’s beautiful, and he insists it was worth it. I tend to agree.

That dedication is what makes him so great, though. And in passing that on to me, I have him to thank for my ambition. For following my ambition to write and to make something of myself as an independent in such a challenging industry. I may bite off more than I can chew, sometimes, but I’ve learned that that often means I’ll end up with a stronger jaw in the process.

On the flip side, I also have him to thank for seeing the potential in something and needing to extract it, even if that means it’s a bit over-ambitious . And in that, I’ve had to adjust my approach to the world. I’ve had to learn to see said potential, know that I need to go for it, and to understand that it isn’t an easy road to extract it. I’ve had to learn that to hit my high-standards and perfectionism, I have to learn by doing..

I’ve had to learn to just get started, and the evidence of my never-ending journey can still be seen in a graveyard of unfinished projects or plans that just kept getting more and more complicated.

You’ve likely heard this idea before - to overcome your procrastinating by just beginning, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need to read it again, and certainly doesn’t mean I don’t need to write it out. Whether it’s a small task, or a big project, if you’ve been pushing it off over and over again, just get started.

In writing, for instance, I know that things like content calendars, brand voice, and alignment with my industry and customer problem are all things to consider and plan when putting together a content strategy. So it’s been really easy to overthink that. To over plan what to write and in what order. To overengineer the content itself so that it generates the right kind of leads for me.

But those things don’t come without experience and iteration. If you’ve never managed a process like this, or written about the subject you’re tackling, it’s not reasonable to think you can put together a thorough content plan; it isn’t impossible, but it’s also just not reasonable to expect yourself to do it successfully right away. Not to mention that community - and with it, the people who might want to work with you or buy your stuff - comes together through a number of genuine and passionate conversations, which doesn’t tend to come through when you over-plan.

If you’re finding yourself reading this and saying, “Okay, but my thing needs to be perfect before I show it to the world…” I’m happy to tell you that you’re both right and wrong. Your final product might need to be perfect, but the process should be messy and at least a little public.

In Austin Kleon’s, Show Your Work, he discusses how important community and vulnerability are in successful innovation. He posits that genius is cultivated in groups, coined as “sceniuses” by musician Brian Eno. Einstein and Mozzart didn’t produce their greatest works holed-up in an office by themselves. They discussed ideas and played with and around others, all the time. They may have had a higher likelihood of genius from the get-go, but a big part of their success came from iteration with others.

They had a scene dedicated to the thing they loved; they had a scenius.

Austin also muses about the way of the amateur and how a sort of perpetual amateurism is a near-requirement for producing great work. Not only is it necessary to be in a group of people at each stage of your progression, but you need to think like an amateur. The expert tends to be set in their ways. As such, they’ll iterate and build incrementally on top of existing frameworks and ideas; improving on the work of their predecessors, but not as frequently making dashing strides.

The amateur, however, is always learning and always exploring. They tend to be more aware of what they don’t know than what they do. As such, they’re more likely to explore new, better ways of doing things, or more aggressive and scary expressions of their own ideas. They don’t over plan, they dive in out of excitement for learning and doing.

Amateur, as I learned from Austin, means “lover” in French. It makes sense, then, that the amateur is so dedicated to the learning process. Love tends to do that to us. It makes us a little crazy, it makes us want nothing more than to learn about another person. It makes us think about that person day in and day out. And when applied to a new skill or art or hobby, we often see the amateur on a quest to learn as much as possible, thinking about it all the time, and it’s no surprise that brilliance is often preceded by a fiery passion sparked by possibility instead of fear laid down by the unknown.

The lesson: By combining your experience with the curiosity and iteration of the amateur, and showing it in a community of other passionate people, the possibility of having something impactful to contribute elevates.

So what does this mean for each of us trying to do something new? Find passion in the things that you’re working on. Be curious and search for new ideas. Bring those ideas to the community, and be more afraid of never getting feedback than you are of hearing what you don’t want to hear.

Obviously, each task or project has a different level of consequence and risk associated with it, and with it comes a different need to plan and ensure time, money, and trust aren’t wasted. The point, here, though, is to find ways to bring others into the planning process and think with others, not on your own. Whether it’s family, friends, co-workers, investors, advisors, etc, by putting the process out into the world, you’re starting. By keeping it in your head, though, you always have permission to keep waiting and you won’t get that piece of critical insight until you finally put your “finished” product out in the world.

What does that mean for my writing? It means do it. Let the passion come through, and don’t overthink it. It means writing more as I’m processing something instead of waiting until I’ve fully processed it so all of you can help me think it through. Writing a big Customer Experience guide? Talk about pieces of it on LinkedIn instead of just waiting to release the whole thing. The final product will be better as a result.

It means that impactful work comes from the practice and feedback you get by putting yourself out there frequently.

It means being more vulnerable and making the process part of the product. It means having a plan and a direction, but not needing to be “ready” for everything because I know figure things out along the way with the help of other smart people.

It means just getting started.