I've learned something this week about the joy of being average.

If there is one thing I've always considered an important virtue, it is excellence. The ideal, of course, is to achieve excellence in all that we do. Failing that, we strive to achieve excellence in the most important things.

Of course, having excellence as a goal doesn't mean that we always achieve it. It can be difficult to achieve excellence in all major areas of your life simultaneously. Most of us have a few areas of life where we try especially hard to do our best. Others necessarily receive less attention.

Some areas where I think it's important to excel -- I try really hard to excel, even though I don't always achieve it: Parenting. My work as an attorney. Comforting someone who is going through very hard times. Giving a speech. My writing.

Some areas where I'd love to excel, but I don't consider it important to do so: Crafts. Cooking. Skiing. Having perfect vacations.

In which parts of your life do you strive for excellence, and in what areas of your life are you satisfied to just get it done at all?

I've been reading a book by Patricia Ryan Madson, "improv wisdom: don't prepare, just show up." It's about applying some of the same skills used in improv to everyday life. It's a fine read so far, and I particularly enjoyed the fifth chapter, "be average."

Here's an excerpt:

Giving it all you've got commonly backfires. There is a paradox that when we are trying hard the result is often disappointing. A healthier climate is one in which we tell ourselves to just be average. Take the pressure off. Avoid the mind-set that says "This one better be good!" or "Be original."

Madson urges her readers to look for the obvious solution first -- the natural, easy way to approach a problem.

And you don't always have to think "outside the box." Try thinking "inside the box."

Madson says:

Do it naturally. If there is something important that you need to do, approach the problem as though you didn't need to do your best. What is the most obvious way of solving it? How would you proceed if finding a solution was "nothing special?"

Barbara Sher, whose mission in life is to help people discover their gifts and find ways to do what they love, urges people to start by creating something bad. If you want to be an artist, start by making five really bad drawings of a cat, she urges. It helps overcome pointless paralysis and resistance.

Author and writing teacher Natalie Goldberg has a similar notion. One of her rules for free writing is to remind yourself that you have permission to write "the worst junk in the world" (or the worst junk in the universe, or the worst junk in any particular town).

Both Barbara Sher and Natalie Goldberg are uniquely talented, and their advice is golden, but I really like Madson's paean to "being average."

For me, the concept of "being average" has one advantage over the "lousy first draft" idea. The "lousy first draft" implicitly is just a first draft -- eventually to be turned into a brilliant piece of writing -- or, in the case of free writing, eventually to be mined for a few nuggets that can be used in future polished work.

This expectation that my work is just a "first draft" has a hidden trap, for me at least: Perfectionism is not necessarily avoided -- just postponed.

Madson's challenge to "just be average" is liberating. She stresses that is not necessary that our work -- even our important work -- always be excellent. Often, just showing up is 99% of what we need to do.

I read Madson's chapter on daring to be average a couple of days ago and have applied it to my life this week, with happy results. I have been jumping quickly and enthusiastically into projects that would have given me pause in the past -- an important letter to a contractor, another important letter for a client, a legal memorandum -- and I've finished each project rapidly in "average" form.

The best part is that average is working just fine. First of all, my "average" is probably better than average anyway, when it comes to legal work, at least. (Don't ask about my "average" cooking.) Secondly, time was of the essence in each of these cases. The fact that the work product had to produced quickly and seemingly had to be good made acceptance of "average" work product incredibly liberating.

So I produced "average" results very quickly -- which is just what my clients wanted and needed.

In the back of my mind, I know that I can always turn my "average" into "excellent" when the occasion demands it. But thinking that way can be a trap, too. If we insist on making everything excellent before we let go of it, we are often holding onto our work beyond the point of diminishing returns.

I'm finding that "fast and average" is often just as good as "excellent in due course." In fact, sometimes it's better.

And isn't that true in so many areas of life?

When I am at a restaurant, I occasionally run into the waiter who provides impeccable service, but at a frustratingly slow pace. It can take 90 minutes or more to get through a meal, most of it spent waiting for the waiter to take an order or bring the check. If I'm just relaxing over a dinner, that's fine, but if I have my two young children in tow, it's less charming. I'd rather have quick and average.

Let's face it. McDonald's has made billions out of quick and average.

And the same is true of many other careers, businesses, and professions. Quick and average is usually all we really want and need.

I can certainly think of professions where nothing short of excellence will do -- the classic examples are open heart surgery or building an office tower -- but even in those professions, there is virtue in being average. I really wouldn't want my heart surgeon to "think outside the box" unless he or she needed to. An average, uneventful surgery is just fine. Let surgeons save their energy for the days when they really do need to achieve excellence to save a life. With any luck, that won't be every day.

Humans can't be excellent every day. Everybody is just average some days. There are days when we're under the weather, we're distracted by troubling events, or circumstances just conspire to make the day tougher.

And, to be honest, some days we are even worse than average. It's unavoidable. It's the law of averages -- double meaning intended.

And speaking of average, perhaps you've noticed that this is an odd sort of post for this blog. I usually don't write this sort of thing here -- pondering life in general and strategies for getting through the day. This blog has mostly been about news of the day and opinion and commentary and the war on terror. It's an average thing to do, don't you think -- writing a blog post that doesn't really mesh with my other posts and just posting it anyway?

Normally that would give me pause. Do I really want to publish something that doesn't really fit with the rest of my blog? Does that mean I have to produce a whole bunch of additional posts like this one in order to keep my blog well rounded?

Must. Not. Have. Asymmetry. In. My. Blog.

But I like this average bit of writing. I want to share it with you. I'm pleased with being average. And if my blog will fall prey to being more "average" because I've included a post that is a little different from the rest, with no particular expectation that I will necessarily rework my entire blog to make this fit -- then that's OK.

Frankly, some of you will probably find it refreshing. I hope you like my "improv." If you do, I'll probably be encouraged to do more of it.

I suppose that if you're doing something really risky and really new to you, something you don't do every day -- say, you're the new guy on the bomb squad -- then perhaps you'll want to take this advice with a grain of salt. Don't just plunge in and cut the red wire.

But if you're like most people, and you're faced with a whole lot of things to do, some of them perhaps stressful or challenging, then let me be the first to wish you a very happy, average week. Go do something important in an average way. Let me know how it works out.