Done is better than good
There is something about February that no one really talks about.
The adrenaline of a new year has worn off.
School bags are packed, inboxes are filling again, and the rhythm of ordinary life has returned, whether we feel ready for it or not.
January lets us dream. February asks us to live.
By the time this month arrives, many of us are already quietly negotiating with the promises we made to ourselves just a few weeks earlier.
The early mornings did not stick. New routines slipped. Grand plans met the reality of full calendars and tired bodies.
And somewhere along the way, motivation was replaced with something far less glamorous. Persistence.
There is a quiet temptation at the beginning of any year to believe we must overhaul our entire lives. Become more disciplined. More organised. A more impressive version of ourselves.
But perfection is a heavy place to begin.
In her book Big Magic, Elizabeth Gilbert shares a lesson from her mother that has stayed with me over the years:
“Done is better than good.”
Not flawless. Not optimised. Not a complete reinvention.Just done.
Because forward motion, however imperfect, is what gently builds a life.
February, in many ways, is an invitation to soften our expectations and focus instead on what is sustainable. Rather than chasing dramatic transformation, this is the month to establish gentle infrastructure, the small habits and supportive rhythms that quietly carry us through the year.
It might look like preparing simple meals instead of elaborate ones. Going to bed a little earlier. Booking the walk with a friend before the week fills up. Drinking more water. Spending less time scrolling. Choosing progress over performance.
Nothing radical. Yet deeply effective.
We often underestimate the power of small, repeated actions because they lack the excitement of a fresh start. Yet it is precisely these modest choices that create steadiness, and steadiness is what most of us are truly seeking.
There is relief in accepting that we are not behind. We are simply beginning again, with more information than we had before.
Life is rarely transformed in a single dazzling moment. More often, it is shaped quietly in packed lunches, calendar reminders, early nights, kind conversations, and the decision to try once more tomorrow.
So if the year already feels different from how you imagined it might, consider this your gentle reminder. You do not need to start over. You only need to continue.
Let February be the month you trade perfection for participation.
Start the walk. Make the appointment. Send the email. Try the class. Cook the meal.
Done is better than good.
Next week, I hope to explore Big Magic a little further, a remarkable book about living creatively. Gilbert reminds us that creativity is not reserved for artists. It belongs to anyone willing to stay curious, take small risks, and engage more fully with their own life.
For now, perhaps the real magic is simpler than we think.
Show up. Do what you can. Repeat.
The year is not asking for perfection. It is simply asking for your presence.