How intimidating is a blank page?

I know countless people (including myself) who feel daunted by the white canvas, the empty dance floor, a new notebook. Endless potential — potential perfection —that, under your influence, will most likely not result into the best possible outcome it could have aspired to.

We are so set on the end result or the finishing line, that we cannot bear the thought of enduring the journey that we need to embark to get there —  especially when we have no certainty on how successful we will be or knowing that the end result most probably won't be a masterpiece of any sort. This obsession with the final product is impoverishing our life by depriving us of the joy of simply being without producing. That's right, I'm going there: it's a capitalistic scam! Why else would we feel this unbearable pressure to be good at everything we attempt, if not because we couldn't justify an unproductive waste of time and energy? Why else, if not CaPiTaLiSm?

There is a time and place to be productive: daytime work. Painting, dancing, writing, singing, skating, running, learning — not everything we do must generate a measurable result or a tangible product of some value. This is why I'm so very skeptical of the whole "Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life" philosophy. Arguably, that the fastest way to starting hating what you once loved. Your time is still well spent even if you don't create a Modigliani or write a bestseller, even if you don't compete or win a medal. Learning something that isn't useful? Not only is it a very valid way to spend your time, I argue it's also a revolutionary act. Not only that, from a mere practical perspective, we are realistically meant to be mediocre at most things! How boring would it be to only be doing the things I'm good at? Where is the exploration, the experimentation? Where is the fun in that?

The reality of our humanity is that we're all a little bit average at a lot of things.

Whitney Hanson

Nah, I choose to proudly embrace my mediocrity. I'm happy to be average at a lot of things, as long as I allow myself to enjoy them fully. Take this very article, for example: I'm no writer, and yet here I am writing and posting for the world to see. I choose to focus on the progress, it's much more motivating… and satisfying too. The end result is only made up of one, big, final moment — it's a lot of pressure! You glance at it once and might not be satisfied. The progress journey, on the other hand, is constellated with small wins.

So, I encourage you to go and dance badly (like everybody's watching but you don't care anyway), run à la Phoebe, pick a brush and paint an ugly picture, sing out of tune — enjoy, free from the weight of your own judgements.

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