I also suffer from a less common form of procrastination than my previous article: procrastination by perfection. I would not attempt something at all if I knew I couldn’t do it perfectly. Fully uninstalling my body’s deeply rooted perfectionism software would be great, if that were possible. In the case of procrastination by perfection on a hobby of mine, I discovered a decent workaround.
In high school, I produced hip-hop music. Kind of odd for a white kid growing up in Pacific Northwest white suburbia in the 1990s. With a beginner’s mindset, I tried lots of weird things with the few friends who also liked 90s hip-hop. Making beats, with others more interested in vocals, I was inspired by the story of RZA forming Wu-Tang Clan. Could I be like him? It was a silly romantic fantasy. But I tried my hand at weird music. I had fun. The fantasy still gives me nostalgia.
By college graduation, the music making habit dropped off. Oh, when the American capitalism dreams of proving yourself hit you in your 20s!
In my 30s, when I wanted to pick up music again, to have something outside of work, I had a terrible instinct, “Why try? I won’t make anything as good as Wu-Tang Clan. Look at how good their albums are. Look how far ahead of me they are. It’s been so long since I’ve touched music. I’ll never catch up.” I put off making music again.
What would the magical outcome be? What would the ideal outcome be? Then let me work backwards from that. A lot of people have trouble with that brainstorming part of the process, because they think, “Well, if it’s unrealistic, why would I even try?” … Listen, it’s way too early for that. Most people become their own bottleneck long before reality prevents them from doing it. The world hasn’t told you it’s impossible yet. You have.
—James Clear, discussing Atomic Habits on the Peter Attia Drive
How many dreams die on the vine, unattempted?
During this same time, I projected my perfectionism onto my coworkers’ work and my friends’ art. It was an unrealistic standard. It was unproductive nitpicking. It was a demotivating, bad attitude. I’m sorry I did that to them.
So I was unhappy and high stress at work, and unhappy and avoidant of activities outside of work.
My partner then knew of my yearning to get back into music. She bought me the latest version of Ableton Live Lite, to gently guide me back into the creative hobby that made me so happy. I was drained by my dopamine fixation on my work identity. It took me years to open her gift. One day, finally, I fired up Ableton without much of a plan. I had in mind the end result of making a song like I used to. Coupled with my burning perfectionism.
Surprise, after over a decade, I was not immediately good at the DAW. Nothing remotely close to a song came out in an hour. So I gave up music for several more months, disappointed in not having birthed a Wu-Tang platinum single my first time back in the hotseat.
I think the breakthrough idea for me to finally make progress on music was “systems over goals.” Again, from my last article:
You break free from the pursuit of being perfectly ready.
If you then chip away at your big task for 20 minutes, your body will likely want to continue. System 1 takes over, to your benefit.
This is the same strategy as “don’t break the chain.” I’ve also heard this called “systems over goals” or “practice over product.” Overly focusing on the end result can overwhelm you with how far away it is; overwhelm can divert you to check your email, a sand task you have more confidence in. The more sustainable, less daunting strategy is to start the big rock task, and do a little bit consistently.
If a person is sick of feeling in poor shape and is inspired by a local 10k race, a possible solution is to attempt to run that distance. Yes, they should start smaller, to run a shorter distance. Even more effective and sustainable would be to run a little bit several times a week. The latter is a system.
Make your habits those of the type of person you want to be. If you want to be a runner, what would a runner do to get better? If you want to be a musician, what would a musician do to get better? The results will come.
Upon learning this concept, I began tracking a minimum 20-minute-per-day music practice streak in the Streaks app.
Some days were not so high quality. I had a rough start at the beginning. To this day, I sometimes still phone in the minimum 20. Streaking even the unsatisfactory minimum makes it easier to continue the streak the next day. Eventually, I got to the comfort with music that, when time allowed, 20 minutes of practice would expand into hours of joy. As of writing, the streak is 1,334 days.
Having not so great days and creative output missteps also forced me to reckon with all the effort put into the high quality canons of Wu-Tang Clan, Walt Whitman, or Bach: these artists must’ve had their missteps too. Even paragons of their genres shipped weaker songs occasionally. Imagine their bad days of output that audiences never got to witness. The artists took more shots on target. They practiced.
Then there’s the suburban hip-hop kid who didn’t quite have the authentic hip-hop upbringing of the RZA. Is the grown up kid’s perspective worthwhile? Sean Thomas Dougherty answers this in the poem Why Bother?
Because right now, there is someone
out there with
a wound in the exact shape
of your words.
My amateur music doesn’t need to be held to those famous artists’ dedicated standard. It doesn’t need to sell or to win awards. It is still satisfying music to me. Maybe there’s 1 person in the world who resonates with my weird angle on things, and that 1 person would be a bonus.
My streak absolutely hit some of my goals along the way. First a complete song came. Later, a full length album. Even better than accomplishing goals is a creative practice that enriches my soul.
I also started small another way, carefully investing in music making software and hardware (and the music heads were about to ask if I still use Ableton). I was previously bitten by thinking I was into a new hobby, buying the top of the line tool for that hobby, the tool collecting dust, and I’m out of money. Fully tricked out Ableton Live comes close to $1,000. Realistically weighted, full size MIDI keyboards cost $2,000. To prove out my return to music without spending quite that much to start, I started with $60 Reaper DAW, a $120 Akai Mini Mk3 MIDI keyboard, and a $10/mo Output Arcade sample library. For that last tool, music production is increasingly subscription based these days. For inspiration, $10/mo is a steal.
I’m happy to report the hobby took hold. In the years since, for better or worse, the VST and hardware budget expanded, ha.
My entire identity of my 20s was my work. I can’t believe I didn’t have a creative hobby, an outlet for expression. Getting back into music has been so wonderful.
I don’t think my perfectionism is cured. There must still be big-picture dreams I’m shutting down, my brain thinking quickly before I realize the dreams are shut down. But if I ever wield enough mindfulness to notice myself saying, I won’t attempt X because I’m not yet good at X, I can look at the counterexample of my return to music.