The weeds in my lawn are out of control.

When I say it’s a jungle, I’m not entirely exaggerating. I mean, some of them are at eye-level with me.

If they were sentient (and I’m not entirely convinced they aren’t), I’d be in danger of a hostile takeover—even more so after my brief attempt at clearing out some areas with a borrowed weed wacker. Even now, my sad attempt at cutting away the mess is barely noticeable.

It’s times like these I really wish light sabers existed. Not for the amazing battles with flashy swordplay, just for the super easy yard work.

My email inbox isn’t much better. Though I’ve managed to keep it in check, it’s usually right on the verge.

Yes, I’ve been falling behind on things. Many things. But it just can’t be helped. I can’t do it all and I sure can’t do it all well. Plus, I’ve got the very legitimate excuse of having a new baby on the way. So there.

Still, that doesn’t mean I feel good about it.

If you read any amount of lifestyle improvement, productivity, or self-help material you’ll come across the “one thing” you should absolutely make time for every day, or even a list of things. Maybe you should make your bed, read a book, meditate, stretch, journal, reach out to someone, or drink a certain amount of water (actually, the water thing is pretty important).

They’re all good, and seemingly necessary, but it won’t take long before you’ve accumulated a large assortment of “one things” you should do every day—more than you can possibly take on.

Then you start dropping the ball on some of them until there really is just one or two. That’s the best you can manage daily. It’s been my experience anyhow.

And then there’s the shocking realization that, when it comes to the things you can do regularly, you’ll probably never do them perfectly. I think this is especially hard for creatives. We strive for better—for improvement that leads to perfection—but we’re also really good at spotting all the flaws and feeling discouraged because of them.

During one of the podcasts I follow, the host talked about and agreed with Brené Brown’s belief that everyone is trying their best. I’m not sure if I believe it myself, but just the thought makes me realize we could stand to give everyone (ourselves included) a whole lot more grace.

Maybe the best you can do will never amount to perfection, will never measure up to someone else’s best. Maybe it won’t even be particularly amazing. But maybe that’s not the point.

Instead of wondering why you aren’t perfect, why not ask: what’s the most I can do now with what I have?

It may not be much, but everyone has something. And if you can be happy with that, I think you’ve got more than you realize. Contentment goes a long way toward a good life—knowing how to be satisfied with enough.

In the unremarkable comedy Holy Man, the protagonist (played by Jeff Goldblum) recites a mantra (one misattributed to St. Jerome) about your good becoming better and your better becoming best.

I think most of us recite that sort of mantra in our heads without realizing it—never quite satisfied with our own improvements. That drive to do more and push further can indeed lead to great accomplishments, but it can also cause unhealthy obsession if left unchecked.

Later on in the movie (which I’m not recommending), the titular and unusual spiritual guide of the film, G (played by Eddie Murphy) oh so cleverly rephrases it, “Your good is better and your better is blessed!“

In a very roundabout way, I think he’s got the right approach: to find the blessing in the small achievements, the few things we are managing to do well. Let everything else work out grace and humility in our lives.

So when the bed is left unmade and the lawn unmown, don’t worry so much. It’ll get better.