Progress Not Perfection

When I was trekking to Everest Base Camp, I kept asking my guide how long until the next place. He would always reply, “It’s a little bit up and a little bit down,” and repeat that phrase, but I wasn’t content with the answer. Then I would ask him how much time it would take, and he’d say, “20, 30, 40 minutes,” just like that. (I’m quoting him verbatim.) The difference between 20 and 40 minutes meant nothing to him. I had a feeling he’d been caught out by tourists in the past, saying it would take 20 minutes when it ended up taking 50—so now, he stayed deliberately vague. Or maybe time just didn’t mean much to him at all.

This was difficult for me to understand at first—the lack of attachment to time. But as I got to know the Sherpa way, it began to make sense. Time wasn’t overly important. They simply knew the destination needed to be reached that day. It was never too far, given the need for acclimatisation. So they just put one foot in front of the other until they got there. The western obsession with time must seem strange to them. Why does it matter so much? If you’re out walking on a beautiful day, and the weather’s holding, why not just enjoy the journey?

The time constraints we place on ourselves can be overwhelming. Our days are scheduled down to the minute, and we rarely give ourselves time to just be. But it’s in that “being” where we get to truly know ourselves and each other. That time is important.

Yogic philosophy teaches that we are striving for progress, not perfection. When we work toward something—even in the smallest ways—we’re already in a better place than before. We can improve exponentially when we remove the pressure of an all-or-nothing mindset. Some of us believe we are all-or-nothing people: either 100% committed or not at all. But the idea of progress, not perfection, is about recognising that each small step forward counts. It doesn't have to be perfect to make a difference.

Like the Sherpa who knows each step takes them closer to the destination, we can focus on each good choice rather than punishing ourselves for the bad ones. There’s no need to start over after every misstep.

One thing this trek taught me was the power of distance from all-or-nothing thinking. Curiosity and compassion replaced it—and it felt good. It took daily effort to maintain that shift, but the joy it brought was worth it. Those old thought patterns run deep, but they can be tended. Reflecting on the progress I’d made—rather than chasing perfection—was far more meaningful. If you’ve been walking your own path lately, maybe now is the time to pause and notice how far you’ve already come.