The Hidden Cost of Waiting for "Perfect" and the Power of "Good Enough"

Let me ask you a question. Be really honest with yourself. How many ideas have you had this month that made you think, “That’s a great idea!”? How many projects have you planned in your head? Maybe you wrote notes in a notebook. Maybe you saved links on Pinterest. You thought about all the steps. Now, how many of those ideas have you actually started?

If you feel a little guilty, you’re in the right place. You and I aren’t so different. We belong to a quiet club—the planners, the dreamers, the “someday” people. We love that rush of a new beginning, the crisp, clean feeling of a fresh goal. In our minds, it’s all excitement and safety.

But then we try to start. We sit down to do the work… and a fog rolls into our minds. It’s the fog of perfectionism. It whispers, “You’re not ready.” It murmurs, “What if it’s bad?” It insists, “You need to learn more first.”

So we stop before we begin. We tinker with the plan some more. We wait for the right time, to feel ready, for a sign that we’ll succeed. And while we wait, our goals just sit there. A quiet frustration builds. We end up disappointed in ourselves.

I know this feeling in my bones. I lived inside it for years. This isn’t just theory for me—it’s my own real story. I found a way out of that trap. Let’s talk about why ‘perfect’ is the problem. Let’s see how doing the work—even messy, ugly work—is the only real answer. It’s the only way to turn “someday” into “this day.”

The Paralysis of the Perfect Plan

Let’s look at what really happens when we plan. Think of your latest big idea. You can see it in your head, can’t you? It looks flawless. Now think about the plan you made for it. If you’re like me, that plan might be incredibly detailed, full of steps and lists. Working on the plan feels like work. It feels smart. But here’s the raw truth we need to face: We confuse preparing with doing. We trick ourselves into thinking planning is the same as starting. But it’s not.

I was in love with a perfect plan. I truly believed that if I could just write down every single step, then the doing would be easy. The plan was my safety net. As long as I was listing and organizing, I could tell myself I was moving forward. But really, I was just standing still, drawing a map for a journey I never took.

You might be doing this right now. Do you rewrite your to-do list instead of tackling the tasks? Do you hunt for the perfect app or tool for hours before you begin your real work? Do you say, "I'll start when I have a whole free day," knowing deep down that day never comes? This is the paralysis of the perfect plan. It’s a clever kind of delay. Your mind is trying to protect you. It whispers that planning is safer than doing. After all, no one can criticize an idea that’s only in your notebook. No one can see your clumsy first try if you never have a first try.

We craft these perfect plans because we want everything to be right. We think the perfect plan is a shield against failure. But life doesn’t work like that. A plan is just a guess about what might happen. You can’t know if your guess is any good until you start moving. Chasing the perfect plan is like chasing your shadow. The more you run after it, the more exhausted you get.

Think of it like this. You want to learn to swim. You can read all the books, watch all the videos, buy the best swimsuit. But you will not learn to swim until you get in the water. You won’t learn until you try, splash, and maybe swallow a little water. The perfect plan steals that vital lesson from you. It steals the real learning that only comes from trying.

So we wait. We make our plan neater. We look for a better way to start. We wait for the right feeling. And we tell ourselves we’re being careful. But let’s be brutally honest with each other. It’s not carefulness. It’s fear. Fear dressed up in the costume of good planning. That plan isn’t a bridge to your goal. It’s a wall you built right in front of it. The plan becomes the thing you make, and the real dream gets forgotten on the other side. We have to see this trick for what it is. Then we can step around it. The way out isn’t a newer, better plan. The way out is to start with the plan you have right now, even if it’s messy and full of holes.

The Hidden Cost of "Getting It Right"

We often focus on what we think we gain by waiting for everything to be perfect. We think we’re playing it safe. We think we’re avoiding mistakes. But we rarely stop to add up what this waiting truly costs us. The price is hidden, but it’s brutally real. You pay for it slowly, without even noticing, until one day you wonder where all your time and energy went. Let’s look honestly at this bill together.

First, you pay with time. Think of time as your most precious gift—you can’t get it back. When I spent weeks “planning” to write a book, I wasn’t writing it. I was just thinking about writing it. You might spend months getting ready to start a project, waiting for the stars to align. But that “right moment” is just today, if you choose to see it. All those days and weeks you spend waiting are gone forever. They’re a price paid for nothing but a dream that stayed a dream.

Second, you pay by missing out on learning. This one stings. Doing things is how you learn. You can’t learn to walk without stumbling. You can’t learn to cook without burning a meal. I can’t learn how to do something if I never try it. When you wait for perfect conditions, you skip all the small, important lessons. You stay a perpetual beginner in your mind. You miss the chance to grow smarter and stronger through simple, gritty practice. We choose to stay safe and unknowing, instead of becoming skilled through trying.

Finally, you pay with your joy and confidence. This cost cuts the deepest. Starting something builds energy. Finishing a small task feels good. It makes you think, "Hey, I can do this." But perfectionism strangles that feeling. It makes the first step feel like a cliff. So you never feel that spark of excitement. You never build the confidence that comes from trying anything. The work becomes a heavy burden, not a fun challenge. You and I lose the simple happiness of creating. We trade the joy of making something for the dread of making it wrong.

When you add it all up, the cost is too high. You pay with your time, your growth, and your happiness. We get so scared of a small, visible mistake that we pay a huge, invisible price with our lives. Seeing this cost clearly helps us make a better choice. We can choose to start, even if it’s not perfect, because the price of waiting is so much greater.

The "Good Enough" Engine

This is where we change things. This is where you and I make the switch. We stop chasing “perfect.” We start embracing “good enough.” This doesn’t mean we settle for bad work or stop caring. It means we change our starting point.

Think of it like building a fire. You don’t start with a huge, roaring blaze. You start with a small spark—some twigs and a match. That small start is “good enough.” Once you have that little flame, you can add bigger sticks. Then you can add logs. But you must start with the spark.

“Good enough” is your spark.

For the longest time, I thought I had to start with the big, impressive fire. I wanted my first try to be my best try. That thinking froze me in place. Now, I start with what’s good enough to simply begin.

What does “good enough” look like in real life?

It’s sending an email that gets the point across, even if the phrasing isn’t poetic.

It’s making a simple, edible meal instead of a fancy dinner you’ll never cook.

It’s writing one raw, ugly page of your story, knowing you’ll rewrite it later.

“Good enough” isn’t the finish line. It’s the starting line.

This idea helps in two huge ways.

First, it makes starting easy. The job is no longer “do something amazing.” The job is now “do something simple.” That’s a job you can do today. You can write one paragraph. You can make one phone call. You can take one small step. “Good enough” takes the fear out of the equation.

Second, it gives you something to work on. You can’t make a blank page better. But you can absolutely make a page with some words on it better. “Good enough” gives you a first draft. A first draft is a gift you give yourself. It’s raw material. Now you have something to improve, to shape, to polish.

We have to train our brains to think this way. We’ve been waiting for permission to start. We’ve been waiting to feel ready. The “good enough” engine runs on a different rule. The rule is: start before you feel ready.

Your new motto is: “Don’t get it right. Get it going.”

Your goal today isn’t perfection. Your goal is to make a Version One. A Version One is a triumph. It means you began. You took the idea out of your head and made it real. You and I can always make Version Two better tomorrow. But we can’t make Version One better if it doesn’t exist.

Start with good enough. Let the great come later.

The Execution Playbook

Okay, so we’ve got the right mindset. We believe in “good enough.” Now, how do we actually start? How do we move from thinking to doing? You need a simple plan. I need a simple plan. We all need a few practical steps for when we feel stuck. Consider this your playbook. These are tools you can use today.

1. The Two-Minute Rule.

This one’s dead simple. If a task will take two minutes or less, do it now. Don’t wait. Don’t write it down. Just do it. Send that quick text. Put your shoes away. Write the title of your document. This rule isn’t really about the tasks themselves. It’s about training your brain. You’re teaching yourself to act right away. Every time you do a two-minute task, you win a tiny victory. You build a habit of starting. We’re building momentum, one microscopic step at a time.

2. Set Goals to Finish, Not to Be Perfect.

Change how you set your goals. Don’t say, “I will write a perfect report.” That goal is terrifying and vague. Instead, say, “I will finish a first draft of my report.” Your new goal is to complete the task, not to make it a masterpiece. Finished is better than perfect because finished is real. You and I can check “finished” off a list. We can’t check off “perfect.” Focus on getting to the end. You can make it shine later.

3. Use Short Action Sprints.

The idea of working for hours is daunting. It makes us not want to start. So, don’t think about hours. Set a timer for a ridiculously short time. Try ten minutes. Tell yourself, “For just ten minutes, I will work on this one thing.” When the timer beeps, you can stop. Funny thing is, you’ll often want to keep going. But knowing you only have to work for ten minutes makes it easy to begin. We can all do anything for ten minutes.

4. Share Your Start.

We often keep our goals a secret because we’re afraid to fail in front of others. But a secret goal is easy to ignore. Try sharing it in a small way. Tell a friend, “I’m going to walk for 15 minutes today.” Text a family member, “I just wrote my first paragraph.” This makes your goal real to someone else. It gives you a little bit of friendly accountability. You don’t need to tell the world. Just tell one person who’ll give you a thumbs-up.

5. Plan for Your Problems.

Think about what usually trips you up. Before you start, ask yourself: “What’s most likely to get in my way?” Be honest. Is it your phone? Feeling tired? Not knowing what to do first? Now, make a plan for that problem. If your phone distracts you, put it in another room. If you get tired, promise yourself you’ll only work for five minutes. If you feel confused, write down your very first, tiny step. When you see the problem coming, you’re ready for it. You’re not just hoping to succeed. You’re getting ready to succeed.

This is your simple guide to starting. You don’t need to do everything on this list. Pick one idea and try it today. The goal is to make action easier than waiting. Your first try might be tiny. That’s more than okay. Small action is still action. And action is how you win.

Navigating the Bumps

Choosing action over perfect plans doesn’t make everything smooth sailing. You’ll still have hard days. I still have them. That old, worried voice in your head will come back. It will tell you to stop. This is normal. It doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re human. The goal isn’t a perfect journey with no problems. The goal is to know what to do when the problems come. This is how we build strength. This is how we keep going.

So what do we do when we feel stuck or when we’re being hard on ourselves? We learn to talk back to that voice in a new way.

When the voice says, “This is not good enough.”
You can say back: “You’re right. It’s not finished yet. This is just the first step.” Remember, you’re not making a final product yet. You’re gathering your materials. You’re building the frame of the house before you paint the walls. I have to tell myself this all the time. We have to let ourselves build the messy, ugly first version. The cleaner, better version comes later.

When the voice says, “You started too late. You’re behind.”
This voice is trying to make you feel guilty about the past. Your answer should be: “The best time to start was before. The next best time is right now.” Feeling bad about yesterday doesn’t help today. I forgive myself for not starting sooner. You can forgive yourself, too. What matters is the small thing you can do right now, in this moment. We have to look forward, not back.

When you make a real mistake or something goes wrong.
This is the biggest test. Your old mindset will scream, “This proves I can’t do it!” But here’s the important shift: A mistake is something you did. It is not who you are. You are not a failure. Something you tried didn’t work. That’s all.

When this happens, I ask myself two simple questions:

What did I just learn from this?

What is one tiny change I can make next time?

Maybe you learned you need to ask for help. Maybe you learned one part of your plan was fuzzy. This is good information. Now you’re smarter than you were before. You can take that lesson and try again, a little differently.

Remember, doing things is like building a muscle. The first time you try something imperfect, it feels scary and wrong. The tenth time, it feels more normal. The more you practice, the stronger you get. The bumps in the road aren’t signs to quit. They’re part of the trip. You, me, and everyone else—we all hit these bumps. What helps us is knowing how to steer over them. Keep going. Just take the next small step.

Your Journey from Planning to Doing

We started this talk in a familiar place. You had ideas. I had ideas. We both had plans that weren’t moving. We felt stuck.

Now, we’re here. I hope you feel different. I hope you feel ready. This wasn’t about giving you more work. It was about changing how you see the work.

Let’s look back at what we walked through.

First, we saw The Paralysis of the Perfect Plan. We admitted that planning too much is often just fear in disguise. It’s a way to stay safe. I did this. You might do this. We learned that a plan is just a guess. We can’t know if it works until we start.

Then, we counted The Hidden Cost of "Getting It Right." We saw the true price of waiting. We pay with our time. We pay by not learning. We pay by losing our joy. I wanted you to see this cost clearly. When you see it, you want to make a new choice.

That new choice is The "Good Enough" Mindset. This is where we changed direction. We decided that starting is more important than starting perfectly. I use this idea every day. You can use it too. Your first try isn’t the final product. It’s just the beginning. It’s the first step, not the last.

Next, we got practical with The Execution Playbook. I gave you simple tools. The Two-Minute Rule. Short Action Sprints. These are tools I use to beat my own delay. You can try them. We now know that starting is a skill. We can build this skill with simple actions.

Finally, we prepared for trouble with Navigating the Bumps. We know the old fear will come back. I told you what I say to myself when it does. You will have setbacks. I have them too. A setback isn’t a sign to quit. It’s a sign you’re learning. It’s part of the journey.

So where are you now? You’re at the start. The real start. The journey from planning to doing is a daily choice. Some days will be easy. Some days you’ll have to choose “good enough” all over again. That’s okay. That’s how it works.

Your goal is waiting. But it’s not waiting for a perfect plan. It’s waiting for you. It’s waiting for you to begin. It’s waiting for you to try, to learn, and to try again.

You don’t need more planning. You need to start. Start with something small. Start with something simple. Start with something “good enough.”

What will you start first? I’m starting right here, writing these words for you. We’re in this together.

Now it’s your turn. Take your first step.