Don’t Let Perfect Be the Enemy of Good
By: Claire Hipkins
Disclaimer: This is basically a journal entry and a pep talk (for myself). I’m essentially still a college student. I live with a roommate far away from my family, I read and study for class, I work a part time job, and I’m still on my parents’ health insurance. Nothing about my stage of life has changed since Hillsdale, and I am literally not qualified to be giving anyone in the Curate readership advice about anything. So please take the following reflection to be a collection of thoughts that circle in my brain, definitely informed by my Hillsdale years.
I share them with you: my ongoing experimental life philosophy, hopefully at least somewhat compatible with your brain’s running monologue. And, maybe, these thoughts can offer some comfort for your Hillsdale years. In short, don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good and play the long game. I’ll start with three truths. Some combination of these truths have probably reached you through osmosis while at Hillsdale, but I think about some version of them pretty much daily. I will get slightly carried away with the first truth, and I will let the last two truths speak for themselves.
First, life is full of particular gifts. God created everything in this world for you (specifically you!). Thomas Traherne said that: “All things were made to be yours; and you were made to prize them according to their value: which is your office and duty, the end for which you were created, and the means whereby you enjoy. The end for which you were created, is that by prizing all that God hath done, you may enjoy yourself and Him in Blessedness.” (Thomas Traherne, Centuries, First Century, section 12). Basically, as a Christian, you should never get bored of this world. You have infinite opportunities and infinite things to enjoy. This is “the end for which you were created.” I say this all to assert that it is entirely worthwhile to pursue activities that help you to enjoy this world and “enjoy Him in Blessedness.” Cooking (eating), reading novels, studying the arts, weightlifting, hiking, lighting candles, creating outfits, arranging flowers, and memorizing poetry are all fully worthwhile pursuits in a Christian sense. Given the unlimited abundance of our world, it actually feels diminishing to try to list a set of activities, and these are maybe obviously my things; they might not be yours. The point is that there are far too many gifts in this world to not try new things. Again, this is a fundamental truth. But remembering His gifts helps us to make attempts, despite the very real risk of failure or mediocrity. In other words, I can (and probably should) be bad at things that I am earnestly attempting. Loving and enjoying God in his gifts has nothing to do with perfection or “excellence” in the strict sense of the word.
The second truth: Christians believe in sanctification and a lifetime of transformation into Christ’s likeness. Our faith contains the reality and the promise of personal growth. However, like many things, Christian self-improvement does not fit into our expected timeline. I am not in control of my own self-improvement, and this is comforting. Christ is molding me into who he wants me to be, and this effort will take place over a whole lifetime.
Finally, the last foundational truth comes from the virtue ethics tradition, which says that I become the things that I aim towards. I become virtuous by practicing virtue. So, the activities that I practice are vitally important and will shape the person that I become. For better or for worse, the activities I pursue will shape my character.
The reason that I mention these truths is this: it can be easy to forget that you are only at the beginning of your life and your journey of growth. Your four years at Hillsdale, while formative, are hopefully only a small percentage of your life. With this long view of growth in mind, it seems to follow that life does not, by necessity, have to get worse after leaving Hillsdale and its community.
Heady stuff aside, here are some practical action points—or experiments—to try out.
First, please learn about and practice the spiritual disciplines! I am not going to try to sell you on ancient Christian practices. Talk to Fr. Adam, talk to Brock, read Richard Foster in The Celebration of the Discipline, read Dallas Willard. It’s an overused metaphor for a reason, but spiritual disciplines are truly the trellis upon which you will grow. You will bear more fruit if you grow within a structure. I am fairly confident that spiritual disciplines will always be difficult to practice. So, play the long game. Think of the small habits that you are forming, notice the small successes that you are seeing and just keep going!
Second, practice tangible skills within your interests and see them as training. Think about the skills you want to have when you’re 75, not the changes that you want to see in the next few months. My weaknesses and flaws tend to discourage me, so, instead, I try to think about the kind of capable woman that I want to be when I am a grandmother. At 22, I do not have the gardens that I wish I had. My ability to cook various pieces of meat is somewhat lacking. I spend too much time on my phone, and I don’t read enough. But I have time! After 50 years of good earnest effort, will I not be wildly better at all of these practices or skills? The same principle applies to more specific skill sets.
Hospitality is built almost entirely upon practical tangible skills, and it is a virtue for all Christians to practice. That’s just the truth. So, start small and host dinner. Challenge yourself and learn from your mistakes. Skills within the world of cooking, table-setting, aesthetics, and the cultivation of homey spaces will always come in handy, no matter your phase of life.
Attempt one less tangible, yet, I think, far more influential practice. Write a prayer for the kind of person you want to be in 20 years. A friend and mentor of mine advised me to try this before my senior year. She told me to list some characteristics that I wanted to have in 20 years. She asked me to consider the kind of Christian woman I wanted to be after years of obedience and sanctification. She even advised me to think about fictional characters who had virtues that I wanted to emulate, so that I had fleshed out characters to picture as I prayed. Copying her wisdom, I will advise you to do the same. Pray over your list of characteristics as often as you can. And, dare I say, pray it in combination with other things that you’re asking God for (a husband, perhaps?)
In general, the idea here is to think about how much you can accomplish over decades of good—but not perfect—effort. Aiming for perfection will lead to discouragement and burnout, as my life has testified thus far. But I think that aiming for good earnest effort is a way to persevere and to practice the “long obedience in the same direction” that is the Christian life. So don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good; just go and try some things! Your life of becoming a more Christlike and capable woman has only just begun.
Claire Hipkins | ‘24
Claire is a ‘24 grad who loved studying English and Art History at Hillsdale. She is spending a year in Waco, TX, in the Brazos Fellows Program, studying theology and practicing a Rule of Life in community (accepting applications now—do it!!) She is currently excited about Tex Mex and sleeping eight hours every night.
