Introducing... Crappy Maps

Part of the problem with perfectionism is that it inhibits creativity. Because I am so obsessed with perfection, I find it impossible to complete creative projects after I assess that I am not capable of executing with perfection.


It is said that weavers of some traditions, during the assembly of a rug, intentionally weave a flaw into the pattern. For some, this is to let out an evil spirit; for others, it is to remind them that they are only human and that only God can be perfect. I think it's a little of both. I think the drive to be perfect can be taken to an evil extreme, and that the way out is humility.


I recently purchased a software program that allows for the creation of maps. I am determined to learn and use this program creatively even though, in the process of learning, I will inevitably produce something that is of less-than-stellar quality. My hope is that I will one day be able to appreciate my own work in all its imperfect glory.


So today, I introduce to you my first Crappy Map (in progress - apologies to Jason).

a threnody for perfection

threnody [ˈθrɛnədɪ ˈθriː-], threnode [ˈθriːnəʊd ˈθrɛn-]

n pl threnodies, threnodes

(Literature / Poetry) an ode, song, or speech of lamentation, esp for the dead

[from Greek thrēnōidia, from thrēnos dirge + ōidē song]

Collins English Dictionary – Complete and Unabridged © HarperCollins Publishers 1991, 1994, 1998, 2000, 2003

I am a perfectionist. Therefore, I am a procrastinator. It would be accurate to say that I am writing this post while postponing real work.


It would also be accurate to say that I procrastinated writing this post as long as possible while I came up with (what I thought would be) the perfect name for this blog, tried to obtain the perfect URL, and picked the perfect format.


It would not be unfair for the reader to observe, at this point, that I am procrastinating getting to the point. I would not disagree.


The point?, says my invisible audience.


It is said that nothing is perfect. Usually people read that sentence with the emphasis this way: nothing is perfect, as in, no thing is perfect. I would argue that it could also be read, perhaps more profoundly, thus: nothing is perfect, As in, nothing--nothing-ness, the concept of nothing, the state of non-existence--is itself a state of perfection, and perhaps the only state in which perfection can be found.


I do not wish for annihilation of the self, but I have a profound fear of imperfection, so much so that it does not merely color every life experience, but it fundamentally alters the color palette itself.


The point is that this blog is my threnody for personal perfection. It is my speech of lamentation for something that I have failed for decades to achieve, and will not be able to achieve in this lifetime.


In some sense, it is a threnody for the concept of perfection, in any arena.


Maybe, just maybe, once I've written enough of this threnody, once I've mourned enough for something that can never be, I'll be able to live my life free from its grasp, untroubled by its shadow.