Perfectionism can paralyze creativity. This week, I confronted mine head-on with scissors, scraps, and my journal. I used junk journaling for creativity and to help let go of perfectionism.
This week, I confronted mine head-on with scissors, scraps, and my journal. I used junk journaling for creativity and to help let go of perfectionism.
What would you create if no one was ever going to see it?
For me, other people seeing my work isn’t the problem. It’s me. I’m the problem. The standards I set for myself and my work are often unachievable. When I allow others to see what I’ve created, I often receive positive feedback—but getting past my own litmus test of “good enough” can be impossible.
I’ve been fighting the voice of my inner critic this week. I feel anxiety around releasing Buen Ojo into the world. It’s vulnerable work. And some of that anxiety stems from the standards I put on myself:
It has to be perfect, meaningful, beautiful, worthy…
I’ve been intentionally doing projects where not caring is the point. Junk journaling is useful for this. Just make pages; they don’t need to be planned or perfect. They’re meant to be a mess. That’s the point.
Allowing myself to make for the sake of making has helped me build momentum for other creative projects. It serves as a warm-up. Testing what it feels like to let go of planning and perfection opens the door for creativity to flow in other areas too.
Recycling or reusing materials also helps. It’s trash, so in theory, the outcome doesn’t matter. If it doesn’t turn out, it was going to be garbage anyway. If it does turn out, you’ve made something new, useful, beautiful, or at the very least, interesting.
People talk about intentional creativity like it’s always calm and pretty. But the truth is:
Sometimes being intentional just means showing up and doing it.
Creativity recharges our batteries. But when we’re overwhelmed by life, it’s hard to find the energy to create. We get stuck in a weird catch-22. We can’t do the thing that would help us most. In those moments, simply sitting down for five minutes and making something is a radical act of care.
While I was recovering from a severe case of burnout, I decided to “reuse” my old bullet journals. The ones I filled during the time that led up to that burnout.
I cut out the pages that recorded the chaos and replaced them with new blank pages. I didn’t care how it looked. I only cared that they would be usable in the future. Scrap paper from here and there. Glued or taped together to replace the record of a time I wanted to let go of.
I didn’t realize how healing this process would be. It didn’t make sense at first. It felt like a waste of time. Why not just throw them out? Why not buy something new?
But something compelled me to keep going. The old pages went into the compost. The new pages made room for something that served me better.
I love those new pages.
If you only have a few minutes and want to feel more connected to yourself creatively, try junk journaling. There are no rules. The results don’t matter. You might be surprised how meaningful the act of making becomes.
Set a timer for 10 minutes and just… make.
I’m purposely not sharing many images in this post.
Please don’t go looking for inspiration. Don’t cloud your mind with how your junk journal should look.
Let go of “should.” Let go of “need.” Let this be about process, not outcome.
Doing something poorly (especially something creative) can be surprisingly healing. When life feels high-stakes, less caring and more doing can be exactly what we need.
Or maybe the better question is:
What would you create if you stopped trying to make it perfect?
I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments. What’s helping you create right now?
Not everything needs to be perfect.
But showing up matters.
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