A State of Ongoing Imperfection

Every book I write makes me want to go back and rework the ones that came before. It can cripple you: the knowledge that there is work out there you would happily unravel and reknit were you given the chance. But it’s a blessing never to be given that chance. In the face of your own imperfection, you shouldn’t move backwards and you shouldn’t stop. You can only hope that each step leads to greater improvement. As such, you must accept that perfection is impossible; that the flawed pieces will continue to accumulate as long as you continue producing work. In the end, the only thing you can strive for, and this is appropriate to all areas of life, is that the map of your endeavors charts a series of tiny improvements, rather than a stagnancy of complacency or defeat.