Goodenoughism
Yes, I want to become a goodenougist! Not more. Not less. It is a title of quiet liberation, and if it resonates with you, my dear Reader, I invite you to claim it for yourself.
9/15/20262 min read
I am a recovering perfectionist. For a long time, I searched for a definitive way to "recover," viewing this trait as a sickness or an injury that needed to be healed. After so many years of self-reflection (and therapy) today I know, perfectionism was a profoundly necessary coping mechanism that successfully carried me through the first three decades of my life. I needed a way to honor that past, be grateful for it without carrying its weight into my present.
The tool that offered a real shift was reframing. I tried on the label of "imperfectionist," but it did not really resonate. It still contains the word "perfectionist" at its core. Just as the word "impossible" can easily be reframed as "I'm possible," "imperfectionist" constantly echoed back to me: I'm perfectionist. I believe deeply in the architectural power of the words we choose. I prefer language rooted in natural positivity, like choosing to say "everything’s fine" rather than "nothing’s wrong."
Over the past week, the phrase "good enough" seemed to cross my path repeatedly, arriving quietly in completely independent situations. It tickled my creativity, and it came up with a DIY word: “Goodenoughist”. Yes, I want to become a goodenougist! Not more. Not less. It is a title of quiet liberation, and if it resonates with you, my dear Reader, I invite you to claim it for yourself. 😉
To bridge this concept from theory to daily life, I needed a practice ground. I found it in my morning coffee cup. Because my partner is a passionate hobby barista, we have a dedicated coffee-kitchen, and it is fully equipped with everything needed for professional-grade espresso drinks. While I drink a fair amount of coffee, I possess absolutely no natural talent – nor any driving passion – for the precise geometry of classic latte art. Still, I wanted to participate in the ritual and have fun with it.
Instead of striving for the perfect tulip or a white-brown landscape, I simply pour the milk into the coffee and wait to see what abstract shapes emerge. Once the pour is done, we study the cup together, interpreting the swirls exactly the way a child looks at clouds, or a psychologist looks at an inkblot. We now affectionately call this our Rorschach Latte Art.
Through this simple act of reframing, perfectionism loses its grip entirely. There is no right or wrong way to pour a Rorschach cloud. Everything that lands in the cup is inherently good enough. It strips away the pressure and replaces it with playfulness and humor. It creates a small, daily moment of bonding, sparks sudden bursts of creativity, and starts conversations that a perfectly symmetrical foam leaf never could.
Where in your own daily routines could a simple, playful reframe turn an exhausting pursuit of perfection into a moment of goodenoughism?
PS.: I see a bear and an ape – how about you?