Everything Is Figureoutable

by Marie Forleo

  In retrospect, there’s nothing pathetic about it. I did something. I took a risk. I gathered those five people together. I gave my best effort. Not to mention, I likely had the worst event of my entire career behind me. It’s all uphill from here, baby! That basement workshop gave birth to a simple directive I use anytime I sense perfectionistic tendencies perking up to stop me. Write this one down:

  Starting small and sucky beats staying stucky.

  Making it through that first workshop meant two important things. First, I beat the pants off my perfectionism. If I could do it once, I could do it again. Second, I was one step closer to my ultimate dream of one day teaching in front of thousands. Giving myself the space and grace to suck is the only way I’ve gotten remotely good at anything.

  Every pro starts off as an amateur. There’s not one top artist, athlete, writer, scientist, architect, entrepreneur, programmer, musician, or potter who enters the field at the top of her game. To begin anything new or learn anything new means you will be a neophyte. You must go from outsider to insider. Respect that. Embrace it. Be willing to suck.

  Remember, perfectionism is a poisonous serpent. Its aim is to strike at your creative jugular. Here’s one of its most cunning and lethal moves: getting you to compare yourself to accomplished masters.

  I’m never going to be as good as __________, so why bother trying?

  Do NOT go there. Comparison is creative kryptonite. Remember, doing shots of Comparschläger can kill you.

  No matter what form your creations take, chances are, it’s not going to come pouring out of you all at once. Don’t buy into the romantic idea that if you were really good at what you do—or really meant to do this—it would all flow effortlessly. For some rare people (cyborgs?), perhaps it does. But for most of us mortals, great work doesn’t ooze out of our pores. We bleed and struggle and sweat for it. The process isn’t neat or clean, and there’s no secret formula.

  The moment you measure your early efforts against someone who’s been working their ass off for years—you’ve fallen into a perfectionist death trap. The fix for this is one magical mantra. Read this out loud:

  Progress not perfection.

  From this moment forward, that’s all you strive for. Progress not perfection. Capisce?* That’s the measuring stick you use to determine whether you’re on track. That’s all you care about. Did you make progress? Did you apply effort to learn and grow as it relates to what you want? It doesn’t matter how small; progress is all you’re after.

  This is one of the core principles I drill into the hearts and minds of over fifty-four thousand B-School students. It’s so transformative that at least one student had this mantra tattooed on her forearm. In tens of thousands of survey replies, “progress not perfection” is repeatedly cited as participants’ most pivotal, game-changing breakthrough. It transforms your life by directing you to focus on the only things that matter—learning and growth. Plus, it prevents premature quitting and the mental agony that accompanies wondering if you should.

  Please understand, progress is never a straight line. Progress zigs and zags. It expands, then retreats. You will move forward and then back. Up and down. Then sideways and back again. To fight the erratic rhythm of progress is futile. Expect setbacks, stumbles, and big flops along the way. They’re inevitable, and they’re also positive indicators you’re making progress.

  PROGRESS MYTH:

  What most people think progress looks like

  PROGRESS REALITY:

  What progress actually looks like

  Don’t be afraid of the ups and downs. Instead, prepare creative ways to deal with and learn from them. Expect that it will feel like you’re making one step forward, then taking four back. Above all, cultivate patience. This is one of the most critical mental strengths of the figureoutable philosophy. Everything you want to create, achieve, or experience will likely take longer than you hope. Much longer.

  Molly, one of our B-School students, illustrates this. When she first considered striking out on her own, she was working in a terrible job. She had no idea what she could do for a business or how she was going to pull it off, but she watched a video interview I did with another graduate and became deeply inspired. She wrote, “The woman you spoke with on video talked about having her first $30,000 month. When I heard that, I was like ‘Holy shit, I WANT that. I will have that!’”

  She came up with a business idea and worked on it for two straight years. But Molly couldn’t get traction. She was heartbroken and felt like a failure. She couldn’t afford to keep her business going and was on the verge of quitting, which is when she reached out to us via email. We gave her some coaching and suggested she also share her experience in our private community. Molly bravely posted about her struggle (a struggle that is so incredibly common, but when you’re going through it, it makes you feel alone). She was flooded with support, ideas, and constructive feedback. She took a fresh look at her business and what she could improve. Emboldened, she refocused her efforts and energy. One year later, we received another email from Molly.

  I’m swinging by to tell you that so far this month I have made $31,255.00 (and it’s only the 17th!!). It’s surreal thinking back just three years ago. I still can’t believe this is my life. It’s such hard work, but it’s worth every second.

  Naturally, we were thrilled for her, but a few days later we got another note.

  Can you let your team and Marie know that our final number for December was $65,300? Holy cow, we’re still trying to process it!

  Not only did Molly surpass the revenue goal that initially inspired her three years earlier, but she doubled it within a few weeks. Can you imagine if Molly had given up because she believed that two years of “failure” meant she wasn’t making progress? Here’s the truth: she was in fact moving forward, even though it didn’t feel like it. Molly was wise enough to step back, evaluate her efforts, and ask for constructive feedback. She used that insight to adjust and keep going. To be clear, Molly’s big win wasn’t just about the money. It was about who she had to become in order to bring her once-impossible dream into reality. By focusing on progress not perfection, she became a person who figured things out. Now that capability will serve her for life.

  I’ve heard countless variations of this story across every realm of business, art, filmmaking, writing, sports, relationships, health—you name it. Everything worthwhile takes time. More time than our impatient minds believe it should.

  If you’re clear that achieving your dream (or solving a specific problem) is still important, be patient. Stay on your grind. As Confucius supposedly said, it does not matter how slowly you go so long as you do not stop.

  DON’T JUDGE YOUR FLOPS TOO FAST

  When I began taking my dance ambitions seriously, going to Broadway Dance Center (BDC) and Crunch, I developed certain ideas about what becoming a successful dancer meant. I overheard the pros talking about going on auditions and thought, Oh, of course. That’s what real dancers do. They go on auditions. Success = booking music videos, shows, and tours. If I had any hope of becoming a real dancer, I figured I’d need to start auditioning, too.

  Before long, I learned that Missy Elliott was looking for dancers for her new music video. I was out-of-my-mind excited. This was my chance! The audition was in Midtown Manhattan. When I popped up from the subway, a line of dancers snaked around the block. Everyone seemed to know one another, amiably chatting as they stretched and freestyled right on the sidewalk. I stood there frozen, with knots in my stomach.

  After two hours of torture, I made it into the building and reached the third-floor walk-up. I handed over my headshot with my sparse résumé stapled to the back and joined the next group of dancers in the open studio. The choreographer turned on the music and ran through a few moves. She was fast. I barely caught the first four counts while the other dancers seemed to instantly absorb the intricate choreography. Next thing I kn
ew, the audition began and I had no idea what was going on. I couldn’t keep up. To say that I was in over my head is an extraordinary understatement. My worst dance nightmare was coming true. After a few minutes, I was so embarrassed that I ran out of the studio in tears.

  I walked down Eighth Avenue in a daze. Who are you kidding thinking you could do this? You have no talent. You have no training. You’re too old. Too slow. You’ll NEVER make it!

  After a few days of licking my wounds, I forced myself to get back into class. I realized that the ability to pick up choreography quickly wasn’t an inborn superpower; it was a skill, one I could (very) slowly improve. I kept training and kept going. But that Missy Elliott fail, as embarrassing as it was, was still progress. It inspired me to get honest about where I thrived in the dance world. What did I really enjoy? What was my endgame, and what would I have to do to get there?

  Asking those questions—and really thinking about what success would look like in my real life, rather than in the abstract—was a game changer.

  To be a “successful dancer,” according to my narrow definition, I thought I needed to hustle to book tours with musical artists. Those gigs would mean living and working on the road. But at the time, I was also bartending, running my coaching practice, and was in the early stages of my relationship with Josh. What I believed should be the goals and aspirations of a conventional pro dancer weren’t the right match for my multipassionate self.

  I kept working on dance, but gave myself permission to focus my energy where I felt most alive. As much as I appreciated taking classes at BDC, dance fitness at Crunch was unbelievably fun. I made friends more easily because the work was rooted in joy and learning. I loved dancing alongside people of all different shapes, ages, and walks of life. It felt collaborative not competitive, and I was excited to put in the extra hours to grow.

  Then something peculiar happened. When I stopped forcing myself to pursue conventional dancer goals, I started getting offers to appear in and create workout DVDs (remember those?) and partner with brands like Shape and Prevention magazines. As I gained more experience and made more connections, I booked gigs with big companies like VH1 and the Home Shopping Network. I taught at global conventions all while learning, growing, dancing, and having the time of my life. I let go of striving for conventional dancer goals and allowed myself to pursue my own unique path.

  A few years later, an exciting opportunity appeared. Nike was launching a brand-new dance fitness initiative called the Nike Rockstar Workout. It was something that had never been done before by a global athletic company—introducing dancers as athletes. Jamie King, a dancer, choreographer, and creative director who’s worked with the likes of Rihanna, Madonna, and Bruno Mars, was spearheading the initiative. Nike and Jamie brought the project to NYC and, long story short, I became one of the world’s first Nike Elite Dance Athletes. I spent several years working and training with Nike around the globe, dancing on big stages, training hundreds of instructors, and doing the exact kind of work I loved.

  Here’s what’s interesting: when I bombed that Missy Elliott audition years earlier, Nike Elite Dance Athletes didn’t exist yet. There’s no way I could have dreamed to reach that specific goal, because no one had done it before! It simply had not been created.

  But my Missy failure spurred a necessary shift in my focus, pushing me to spend the next few years unknowingly training in the exact mix of hip-hop, dance, and fitness that prepared me to win that Nike position when it appeared!

  Don’t be so quick to judge your supposed failures. A flop might be a cosmic redirect, guiding you to a better, bigger purpose. Sometimes, as Missy would say, you must ask, “Is it worth it? Let me work it. Put your thing down, flip it, and reverse it.”

  CHARACTERISTICS OF PROGRESS VS. PERFECTION

  If I waited for perfection, I would never write a word.

  Margaret Atwood

  There’s a fine line between striving for excellence and getting sucked into a perfectionism sinkhole. The following will help you self-diagnose and self-correct.

  THE THOUGHTS BEHIND PERFECTION VS. PROGRESS

  Perfection

  Progress

  I have only one shot at this. If I fail/lose/get rejected, it means I suck and I should quit.

  I’ll take as many shots as I can. I’ll learn from every attempt. I’ll get stronger and better.

  It’s either ALL or NOTHING. If I can’t get everything I want now, what’s the point?

  I’ll start small and simple now, then iterate and evolve over time.

  Failure is unacceptable.

  I’m a failure. Always have been, always will be.

  I always fail at everything. This will CRUSH me.

  If I fail, I’m done. I can’t go on.

  Failure is inevitable.

  My attempt may fail, but I’m not a failure.

  Failure isn’t permanent or personal.

  Failure is an event, not a characteristic.

  Ugh. Why is she so much more successful than me? I’m smarter, more genuine. OR, I’ll never be that good.

  She’s so damn inspiring. I really connect with her vibe. If she can do it, so can I.

  This has to happen immediately. ASAP!

  Give me a shortcut/hack/formula.

  I need this to be easy.

  I can’t handle challenges. I’ll fail.

  I’m in this for the long term.

  All great things take time.

  I’m ready to work hard.

  I’m excited for the challenge.

  I feel discouraged and unsure. That means I’m a LOSER.

  Being uncertain and insecure is a sign that I’m out of my league and should quit.

  I feel discouraged and unsure. That means I’m making PROGRESS!

  Being uncertain and insecure is a sign that I’m in new territory.

  I can’t handle another setback.

  I’m too weak. This is too hard.

  Setbacks and obstacles? Bring it.

  Doing hard things makes me stronger.

  Nothing is ever good enough.

  I can’t show this to anyone until it’s perfect.

  Done is better than perfect.

  Real-world feedback helps me learn and improve.

  FEAR ORIENTED:

  What will they think of me?

  What will everyone say about me?

  CURIOSITY ORIENTED:

  What can I learn from this?

  How can I improve?

  MIND THE GAP

  In my tenure at Nike, I regularly traveled to Europe for training and events. While in London, I appreciated the constant reminders on the Underground to “mind the gap.” Meaning, open your eyes and be aware. Don’t face-plant when crossing the space between the train door and the station platform.

  Similarly, we need to mind the gap on our figureoutable journey, particularly as it relates to choosing progress over perfection. There’s a significant gap between what we feel, see, and know in our hearts about the change we want to make, and our capacity to pull it off. In other words . . .

  Mind the gap between your ambition and your ability.

  One of the best articulations of this creative gap comes from Ira Glass, the host and producer of the NPR show This American Life (bolding for emphasis is mine):

  [A] thing that nobody tells people who are beginners—and I really wish somebody had told this to me—is that all of us
who do creative work . . . we get into it because we have good taste. But it’s like there’s a gap, that for the first couple years that you’re making stuff, what you’re making isn’t so good, okay? It’s not that great. It’s really not that great. It’s trying to be good, it has ambition to be good, but it’s not quite that good. But your taste—the thing that got you into the game—your taste is still killer, and your taste is good enough that you can tell that what you’re making is kind of a disappointment to you, you know what I mean?

  A lot of people never get past that phase. A lot of people at that point, they quit. And the thing I would just like to say to you with all my heart is that most everybody I know who does interesting creative work, they went through a phase of years where they had really good taste and they could tell what they were making wasn’t as good as they wanted it to be—they knew it fell short, it didn’t have the special thing that we wanted it to have.

  And the thing I would say to you is everybody goes through that. And for you to go through it, if you’re going through it right now, if you’re just getting out of that phase—you gotta know it’s totally normal.

  And the most important possible thing you can do is do a lot of work—do a huge volume of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week, or every month, you know you’re going to finish one story. Because it’s only by actually going through a volume of work that you are actually going to catch up and close that gap. And the work you’re making will be as good as your ambitions. It takes a while, it’s gonna take you a while—it’s normal to take a while. And you just have to fight your way through that, okay?4