It is the Dalai Lama who tells us “There are only two days that nothing can be done. One is called Yesterday and the other is called Tomorrow. Today is the right day to Love, Believe, Do and mostly Live.”

The Tibetan Buddhist monk beseeches us not to dwell on what happened in the past and to stop worrying about the future. Instead we should learn the lessons from yesterday and utilise this experience today to work towards our life plan for tomorrow.

There is a temptation to believe that he wants us to make today perfect, and to strain every sinew to make it so. This can create two diametrically opposite responses.

The first response is to feel pressure to achieve perfection in everything that we do. The result is that we spend our day with our heads down, checking and rechecking everything we do. Not only do we fail to ‘smell the coffee’ we don’t even know what ‘an Austrian goat milk double, half caf – half decaf, soy milk cappuccino extra hot with a dash of Madagascar cinnamon and half tablespoon of caramel latte frappe mocha’ costs in Starbucks. We are so big on building for our spectacular tomorrow that we do not allow ourselves to enjoy today. And yet it is the memories of our today that become our warm recollections of all our yesterdays.

The second response is to feel that perfection is not achievable and therefore there is no point in making any effort. Sometimes we become so overwhelmed by the need to be ‘the best you can be’ that we resolve that if we do nothing no-one can question the quality of what we have produced. A contagion of procrastination creates an attitude that ‘no grade’ is preferable to ‘low grade’.

It is my belief that what the Dalai Lama was aiming at with his comment is that, as today is the only day that you can influence you should make the most of it; do the best you can in all aspects of your life. Your best is enough; perfection is a bonus.

During the London Olympics in 2012 I had the privilege of being a Gamesmaker at Lords Cricket Ground, the site of the Olympic Archery Tournament. Now, I have no claim to be a toxophilite, an expert in archery, but let me explain how the competition was organised on the hallowed outfield of Lords. Temporary stands were built on either side of the 70 metre track with the targets set facing the Pavilion with its historic Long Room being the best seat in the house. This setup created something of a wind tunnel for the competitors and so two flagpoles behind the targets were vital for the competitors to understand wind speed and direction when taking their six arrows, which they have to shoot off in four minutes. Two large clocks, a couple of yards in front of the shooters, count down this vital four minute limit.

The ‘David Beckham’ (or, in this case, the ‘Stevie Wonder’) of world archery is Im Dong-Hyun of South Korea who is registered as blind. Standard vision is 20/20 but for Im Dong-Hyun it is 20/100 and 20/200 – meaning he needs to be 10 to 20 times closer to the target than normally-sighted individuals. Im is an idol in Asia and archery royalty throughout the world.

The 2012 London Olympic Games was expected to be further evidence of his supremacy and on 27 July, in the team event, Im was at his imperious best and smashed the world record, notching up a score of 699 out of a possible 720. His efforts won his country the Bronze Medal.

Im confirms that all he can do is to try to distinguish between the different colours on the target. Indeed he has told us “For, me seeing the target and not seeing the target does not make a difference.”

Three days later, the world of archery was watching the expected progression of Im Dong-Hyun into the final of the Individual event. He eased his way effortlessly through the first two elimination rounds without ever quite reaching the levels of perfection he had achieved in the team event.

The personal pressure mounted as his opponent, Rick Van Der Ven of the Netherlands, raced into an early lead. Im took his place 70 metres away from the target, seeking out the yellow inner ring, through opaque vision. The clock started to tick down the four minutes as Im watched the fluttering of flags and as they fell limp he loosed first one arrow, then another and then a third. The shots were in the inner ring. He was on a roll. The fourth arrow was all-important and, again, he watched the flags to assess the winds direction and strength. He waited for all of the elements to be in his favour. The tension in the crowd mounted as they appreciated the import of this fourth arrow. They were willing Im to achieve his brilliant best, to prove the power of the human spirit to overcome any disadvantage and be perfect.

The flags continued to flutter forcefully east to west, dipped slightly before, again, standing erect from the flagpoles that held them.

Im continued to wait, continued to hold his fire, calmly determined to find that yellow bullseye yet again. The massive, knowledgeable audience took a deep breath and waited with him. A bird screeched in the distance, sending a minor tremor through the tense scene.

They waited still.

The strident claxon screech of the timer shook the attendant masses to their core. This claxon sound was, in the world of archery, the shattering peal of the seismometer predicting an earthquake registering a magnitude 7 on the Richter scale.

Im had defaulted and was out of the competition. The damage was irreparable. Im, imperious days before, would not be the Gold Medal winner and his today would not be creating a memorable yesterday for Im Dong-Hyun.

The Dalai Lama is right when he tells us that today is the only day that we can influence but we must remember that to do our best today is preferable to seeking perfection and achieving nothing.