I have been working on my autobiography for a couple of years on and off, and plan to publish it later this year. As a writer, I want to tweak it over and over again and make it perfect. I learned that it will never be perfect and I will never be one hundred percent satisfied with it. That brings me to the next point: the publication date. I am excited to have a baby, and it will be easy for me to keep pushing it back, waiting for the baby to be three months, then six months, then a year, then—oh, I have to wait for his wedding. There is never going to be a perfect time.

I believe that perfection is the enemy of greatness.

I have been wanting to get back on the stage to speak and last year was a cathartic search of what I wanted my speaking career to look like. One issue that I had was making sure the people who would be my on-stage facilitators would be there for me. I’m talking to two great friends of mine who both said yeah, let’s do this. Despite this, I was always scared that I will get a phone call from a client who would offer me everything I wanted in a gig and I could not get our schedules straight. So what? I have other friends who could help me. My manager Kristi said she would help me. I will make it work. But my pursuit of the perfect time or the perfect situation has held me back and it’s a thing that I have to deal with constantly. When I started USC in the fall of ’99, I did not know who was going to help me with everything. I started, and it was far from perfect. I made it work, but perfect never came.

What does perfect look like anyway? I contend that perfect is the most boring thing on earth.

Here is a conversation between a perfect couple:

“I love you.”

“No, I love you.”

“Where do you want to go eat?”

“I don’t care.”

That’s boring!

The crux of life is working, fighting, and dealing with imperfections and making the best of them.

Get ready for this…

In my mind, I see perfection as not being disabled. I see perfection as not having a speech impediment. I see perfection in reaching for a pen without random, jerky movements.

(I can’t believe that was the first poem I ever wrote.)

In my mind, perfection is a cure. (That would be awesome.) I never focused my mind, energy, or resources on trying to find a cure. I always focused my mind, energy, and resources on making my life great.