We are obsessed with perfection. Social media bombards us with flawless lives, handcrafted bodies, and one professional success after another. But there's a fundamental problem with this narrative: people are obsessively chasing a mirage that doesn't even exist.

Perfection, as we traditionally understand it, is not an absolute concept but a relative one. It always comes with a qualifier; it's always "perfect for something" or "perfect for someone." This simple observation disarms the entire toxic perfectionism industry that keeps us in an endless loop of dissatisfaction.

The Myth of "Perfect" Perfection

The Greeks already had it figured out with their concept of areté. This word, traditionally translated as "virtue" or "excellence," originally meant "that which makes things in general what they are meant to be essentially". It was about realizing the specific potential of each thing according to its nature.

Aristotle took it further with his concept of telos. For him, perfection was the complete realization of the inherent potential of each being according to its specific nature. A perfect hammer is not the same as a perfect symphony. A perfect friend doesn't meet the same criteria as a perfect cup of coffee.

This fundamental relativity of perfection is confirmed by modern neuroscience. According to neuroscientist Ana Ibáñez, "brains that seek perfection are brains that have equated perfection with what gives them security". But here's the interesting part: not all brains work the same. In the creative world, for example, perfection may be precisely what is imperfect, unprecedented, what breaks the mold.

The real problem arises when we confuse this contextual pursuit of excellence with maladaptive perfectionism. Studies show that people with perfectionist traits set very high, unrealistic standards and adhere to these standards rigidly and immovably.

And here's the cruelest irony: the toxic perfectionist is almost always their own worst enemy. They constantly sabotage themselves, paralyzed by impossible standards. And when they're not busy self-destructing, they become everyone else's enemy. They are those unbearable people who check your work 47 times, correct how you load the dishwasher, have opinions on how you should organize your desk. They are exhausting, lol.

The consequences are devastating: chronic anxiety, deep depression, systematic burnout. Constant dissatisfaction and fear of failure can lead to states of anxiety and deep sadness. It's the perfect recipe for perpetual unhappiness and, by the way, for scaring away any human being who gets within three meters.

Embracing Mediocrity

Here's the part you probably didn't expect: in our current context, being truly "perfect" looks much more like what we might call a consistent mediocrity.

Think of it this way: someone who constantly gives their 100%, when the critical moment comes —that moment that really matters— will only be able to give 50% or at most 70%. They'll be burned out, exhausted, without reserves. On the other hand, someone who maintains constant but moderate effort, say 80%, will have fuel in the tank to give 120% when the situation requires it.

Xavier Marcet identifies that mediocre organizations are characterized by "hierarchies that weigh more than arguments and bosses from whom no one learns anymore". But there's a crucial difference between toxic mediocrity and strategic mediocrity. The first is pure complacency. The second is smart resource management.

The Swedes have a fascinating word that perfectly captures this philosophy: lagom. Etymologically, it derives from ancient Nordic languages, where it meant "law," and its origin dates back to Viking traditions.

Imagine the scene: Vikings sitting around the fire telling stories with a horn of mead in hand. The horn passes from hand to hand, and each must drink "lagom" — not too much nor too little, just enough for everyone to have some. The practice was called "laget om" (around the team).

Today, lagom means "the best solution in any context to reach balance". It represents contextual optimization. It's understanding that the perfect amount of anything depends on the entire ecosystem, not just your individual desire.

Critics point out that in Sweden, it is frowned upon to stand out or draw attention. But this characteristic has deep roots in their sense of collectivity. It reflects a form of sustainable excellence.

Your Personal Perfection

Going back to the beginning: perfection always has a qualifier. The crucial question is not "how to be perfect?" but "perfect for what?" or "perfect for whom?"

Are you aiming to be the perfect employee? The one who works 14-hour days and answers emails at 3 AM will probably collapse before 40. The perfect parent? Those who try end up raising kids with chronic anxiety. The perfect entrepreneur? Most end up divorced and with ulcers.

Contextual perfection —the one that understands lagom— asks: What is the optimal level of effort I can maintain indefinitely? What standard of excellence can I sustain without self-destructing? How can I be excellent in what matters without sacrificing everything else?

Our brain is extraordinarily plastic and continuously adapts its activity throughout life. This means that we can reprogram our toxic perfectionist patterns. We've mentioned it several times in past episodes.

First, identify your context. In what area of your life are you seeking perfection? Is this pursuit really yours or something you inherited from Instagram?

Second, define your personal lagom. What is your sustainable 80%? That level where you can consistently perform without burning out, keeping reserves for critical moments.

Third, accept that perfection belongs to the things that are narrated, not the ones that are lived. Real life is messy, unpredictable, wonderfully imperfect.

To dance during the end of the world we need to radically rethink what it means to be perfect.

We can no longer afford to chase individualistic perfections that ignore the systemic context. The perfection of the workaholic executive is unsustainable. The perfection of the compulsive consumer is destructive. The perfection of the narcissistic influencer is pathological.

True perfection in the Anthropocene could be precisely that consistent mediocrity that allows for collective survival. It's lagom applied on a planetary scale: taking only what's necessary so that it lasts for everyone, including future generations.

Identifying what type of perfection is yours becomes fundamental to develop your life strategy. The goal is to choose the right standards for your specific context.

Are you perfect for solving complex problems? Then your perfection is measured in elegant solutions, not in hours worked. Are you perfect for creating human connections? Your metric is the depth of the bonds, not the followers. Are you perfect for innovation? Your excellence is in breaking molds, not following them.

The world needs your specific, contextual perfection, with a qualifier. Not the generic, toxic perfection that the market sells. We need more lagom and less hustler culture. More Vikings sharing the horn of mead and fewer wolves of Wall Street.

At the end of the day, the most perfect perfection might simply be this: being consistently good at what matters, maintaining the energy for when it really counts, and always remembering that the horn must last for everyone at the table. That's the perfection we need in these strange times. One with a qualifier and context. A perfectly imperfect perfection.