Author: khoa

I have a problem with “good enough.” If there’s a better option—shinier, newer, 2% more efficient—I’ll grab it, even if it costs me time, energy, money, and sometimes my sanity. I’ll tell myself I’m being thorough, honest and responsible. But really, I’m losing the plot.

My definition of “good enough” has quietly mutated into “really good, almost perfect.” Which means I’m almost never done. I keep chasing tiny gains at high cost, and in the process, I ruin the bigger, more meaningful thing I actually care about. It’s like polishing a spoon while the kitchen is on fire.

And yes, I know this. But that doesn’t make it easier.

So what can I do when my brain insists on upgrading everything? Why it’s so hard to stop?

…

A bit of thinking brings me here with 2 questions I should ask myself when I have a feeling of being trapped.

#1. What am I actually trying to achieve?

#2. Is what I’m doing right now moving the needle?

If the answer to #2 is “not really”, I stop, ship the version that meets the goal,

…and put the extra ideas on a later list.

TLDR: perfection is a trap; life is short; start now, take calculated risks, live boldly.

Life is temporary. When the time is short, the question changes: do you want perfect things, or a well-lived life?

Perfection looks noble on the surface, but it often hides fear: fear of starting, fear of judgment, fear of making a wrong move. You polish the small things—one more tweak, one more pass, one more “when I’m ready”—and suddenly, years have slipped by.

The paradox: by trying to perfect everything, you ruin the very life you’re trying to optimize. You trade experiences for edits, courage for control, time for tidiness. And later, regret arrives disguised as “I could have.”

There’s a better path:

• Start before you’re ready. Readiness is a feeling that only shows up after you begin.
• Take calculated risks.
• Focus on high-leverage moves: relationships, health, learning, meaningful work. Let the small imperfections be the price of a bigger life.

Remember: you can polish forever, but you only live once. Choose a life that, when you’re old and looking back, feels full—of attempts, adventures, and honest tries—not one that’s museum-perfect but barely lived.

Start today. Make the call. Publish the draft. Book the trip. Ask the question. Take the class. Say yes to the thing that scares you just enough.

Perfect is a horizon. Living is the path.