The Art of Doing Things Kinda Badly

Written by Tabitha Bengtson (AKA Aleyna St. Bridget)

Introduction

Since the dawn of mankind, humans have depended on one another for success. I can just see it now—a caveman sharing a mammoth leg with his brother, who then returns the favor by sharing his favorite hot spring to get baked in.

And in some ways, life is still that simple. Sure, we have fancy job titles and live in our modern caves, but we're still social animals who rely on one another to build meaningful lives.

It is my theory in this essay that the common person can use the tools of social media to build success, community, and a life worth living—without it detracting from our joy. I won’t be focusing on metrics or the superficial grind of content creation, but rather on bringing the inner world out into the light.

Because ultimately, when we show the best parts of ourselves to others, it inspires them to do the same. And in this way, we can create a world where the soul can thrive—and where real community can grow.

Part 1: Falling in Love with Yourself

"He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And _if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you_." - Friedrich Nietzsche

“Do you really want to be happy? You can begin by being appreciative of who you are and what you've got.”

― Benjamin Hoff, The Tao of Pooh

The measures of success may be thrown aside, for the mere principle that to be caught up in numbers and estimations of just how well you are doing, is a good way to drive oneself slowly insane. The common person is, in fact, incredibly intuitive and capable of determining for oneself how successful they are based on three objectives.

1. How you feel.

2. Your interest in your own subject matter.

3. If you want to keep going.

I have started, and re-started, and re-*re*-started, my channel doing many types of content. I run a business that is making no money. I have been spinning my wheels in effort to make something that *matters*. And then, in a moment of boredom and annoyance, I decided to sit down and write this essay.

Will it be the first of many? Perhaps. Is that something that matters right now, this very second? To me it absolutely does, because I am caught in the mind-loop where you say one thing, and may do another based on the three objectives. How am I supposed to know if I'll want to keep going in a week with this type of content? My actions are fluid and based on opportunity and inspiration rather than regularity and homeostasis.

The nature of the human is to behave, and respond, in ways that cannot be prescribed. As such, an algorithm can stuff things up a bit, and make it so that channels that are fluid, intuitive, and spontaneous are not as easily found as ones focused and trained to meet the algorithm's sensibilities. And perhaps, this is more of a gift than a limitation, because the people that I most want to find my channel will operate on a similar wavelength.

The act of performing content in any way can often feel like fighting with a monster. You interact with your inner self by bringing it outwards, and you bring your ideas to life. What could be better, and scarier, and more intimidating and inspiring and ultimately, fulfilling, than doing *that*?

Instead of staring into your content abyss, uncertain of what you really want to do next, you might find success in just diving in to something that feels doable, and in a way that feels approachable, with zero expectation and one hundred percent engagement.

The act of creating when you want to, and deciding to engage in the content with gratitude and excitement, rather than criticism and apathy, can upend your perception of self in the best way. Who are you when you are creating solely for the sake of expression and personal engagement with your own material? What does it feel like to fall in love with yourself through the act of reaching inside of your metaphorical garden, and bringing the flowers out for anyone to see? It could be seen as a form of self love to create without restriction, and to allow oneself to appear as perfectly flawed and disorganized as you inevitably will turn out to be at times.

Back in the caveman times, you are essentially repainting the art you made in your cave on a canvas for others to see it. Most certainly some will be too personal or too ugly, but it is up to you and your intuition what you choose to scoop out of your soul and share with the common consciousness.

And ultimately, the beauty of sharing somewhat flawed but beautifully personal expression, is that it inspires others to see what they can create, too. Your boldness in sharing can help others to experience the healing of creating from the soul and sharing their creations with the world, too.

Part 2: The Symbiotic Growth Experienced by a Community of Like Creators

“All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. [...]And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know its normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. [...] It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.” - Ira Glass

“Our job in this life is not to shape ourselves into some ideal we imagine we ought to be, but to find out who we already are and become it.”

― Steven Pressfield, The War of Art: Break Through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles

There is something special about being a raw nerve--at having untapped potential that you're ready to dive into. And, more than anything else, being ready to make mistakes. You can frame them as happy accidents--as fun little missteps on your way toward some big, perfect project you'll make some day. There's this book I read a long time ago that I can never remember the name of, but it had this idea in it about how you can choose how you go through life. You can cry through life, you can be angry, or you can choose to dance through life. And I think that if you choose to dance through life, and to make as many mistakes as you possibly can and *not* worry yourself over them, you, and the people who are in your creative ilk, will benefit from them.

As creators, we grow together. One person gets a really cool idea, and the rest of us see it and think, "wow, what can I do that's like that, but my own thing"? Other people's work gives us reference points that we can anchor onto and say, I know I can do it because she did something similar and it worked. How can I do it my way?

Mistakes are wholly helpful because when, in the community that you frequent, you see someone doing something similar to you imperfectly, it makes the task of sharing one's work more accessible. If mistakes can be permitted, and made normal, then making things becomes more accessible for many people. In the world as it is now, sharing one's work or one's art can be an altogether stressful act if you feel you must prove yourself worthwhile as a creator by not snuffing up. But, if mistakes are permitted and normalized, it inspires others to be able to make their projects with less weight on imperfections, and more focus on the actual meaning of the piece and the work itself as a whole.

Try and envision for a second, a line of musicians and poets playing during the renaissance for a twenty-year-old princess's court. Do you think the performers did everything right, with no small breaks in their composure and no snags in their performance? Of course not. The performance itself, and the experience of being performed for, was what mattered. And that is what I am talking about here: the experience of making and performing a piece, and then the viewers experience of seeing it done, is what matters in and of itself. Imperfections should be wholly accepted and embraced, allowing more art and more beauty to be shared with the world from the inherently (and quite perfectly) flawed human creators.

It's okay, and deliciously rebellious in a time where superficial perfection is king, to make mistakes while you make your art and to show the gaps between your work and where you'd like it to be. Be bold, be daring, and be comfortable with your own flaws. They aren't unique to you--but they do represent a foundational similarity among all of us, because to err is indeed human.

Conclusion

We’re not meant to polish ourselves into silence. We’re meant to be messy and expressive and occasionally confusing. That’s the whole point of being a person. And maybe the goal isn’t to master the algorithm or build the perfect brand — maybe it’s just to build something that feels good, and hope it resonates with someone else who’s been looking for it.

So if you’re waiting to be ready, don’t. If you’re unsure what to say, say what’s true right now. Make the weird video. Write the unfiltered post. Share your favorite metaphorical hot spring.

Because in a world that’s deeply disengaged, your sincerity is a kind of revolution. Your voice — flawed and unfinished as it might be — could be the thing that makes someone else feel just a little less alone.