People often believe that complicated means good or right when, really, they just mean the hard way.
When I was first convinced to become a vegetarian, it was because a couple rather militant vegans were constantly needling for this change in behavior and lifestyle. I met them halfway, so to speak. I was in my early 20s and the aforementioned vegans had written a script for how this lifestyle worked. Unsurprisingly, this script was based on their own choices. In the beginning, I was told that an essential aspect of my new lifestyle required learning how to make my own seitan (aka. "wheat meat"). I'm not going to say that it's an absurdly difficult process but I will say that it is by no means a necessary process. You can buy pre-made seitan at the store and there's nothing wrong with doing so. Making the first couple batches of seitan took time. Pre-pandemic, most people would say they did not have this extra time in their days.
There are many good reasons for putting intensity into what you care about. Just so long as we're talking about something you truly care about.
For personal reasons, I am not a fan of marijuana. That being said, yes, it should be legalized and taxed. The states that do this first will benefit the most. Moving along. Yes, I had a phase in my teens. When I first learned about this new substance, a friend's older brother told us the "right way" to roll a joint. Much like the vegan situation, this early instruction was based on someone else's choices. Their preconceived notions of "the right way". When a confident person tells or shows you "the right way" to do something, it's easy to believe this is the only acceptable method. In this case, I was told that the proper way to begin rolling a joint was to take the amount of weed you intended you use in that single joint, carefully lay it out, and then use scissors to cut the bud into precise tiny bits. The idea was that you wanted the joint to burn evenly and so forth. The point, of course, is that you are by no means required to use scissors for this process. It's a form of perfectionism.
If you're working to excess for the sake of perfectionism, then you're getting in your own way.
We spend too much time talking about productivity. Being a maximalist is rarely the best approach. This is not to say that minimalism is a happy medium.
Minimalism, as a lifestyle, is misleading. It's often exclusively for those who can afford to keep less things around them. Real people who might need something for later actually cannot afford to throw away that something because, for example, it would only be $20 to replace it. That $20 might not be there in the future.
They are not opposites but scarcity and the hedonic treadmill are important considerations when thinking about the haves and have nots.
Keeping all of the above in mind, I do actually suggest beginning with the harder and more complex methods. Just not perfectionism. If you begin by doing something a way that is a little harder, you can decide for yourself what easier routes make the most sense for you. You get to pick the shortcuts that feel right for you personally. You get to scale back. You get to decide what is more realistic.
If you begin with a simple process, it's going to be difficult to convince yourself to try it a more complex way. If you begin with a recipe labeled "easy", you're less likely to want to try the harder method. It's a psychologically uphill battle. You already know a tasty way to make this meal without all the extra work. But you do not know what it feels like or the hidden rewards you may be missing out on by avoiding the slightly more complex route. Not all shortcuts are created equal. In the end, it's a freedom of choice. The key is to give yourself the best possible choices.