I like to walk alone because that's my time to think. This morning I was also on the hunt for some leaves and flowers to use in a class I will be teaching this coming weekend. As I stood looking at a bush, trying to decide on the perfect leaf, I thought of that word: Perfect. Perfection. What is it? What was I looking for?
The idea of perfection is something that I have been chasing all my life. As they say, we are our own worst critic, and I am sure that is true for me. I measure myself by that elusive perfect and always fall short in my own eyes. But I don't expect perfect from others. Why should I expect it for myself? I suppose I could trace it back to something in my childhood or spend forever talking about it in therapy. In fact, I have talked about it in therapy. A lot. It is the root of all my problems, I am sure, my pursuit of perfection.
My brain equates imperfect with not good enough. In everything: The way I look, the things I do, the jewelry I make. But, the truth is, I am imperfect. So are you. So is everyone. If you think you're perfect, then you have more problems than I do.
I give great advice. To other people. So when I think about something like this, it's best for me to think about how I would talk to someone else about it. So here's the part where I tell you that imperfect does not equal not good enough and that it most likely is not only good enough it is the best it can be.
If I keep telling myself this, maybe one day I will believe it. I am what I am and I'm not perfect. But I do my best and, while that is not perfect it is the best I can do. It's tiring and self-defeating to continue to chase perfection. Also, futile. And our imperfections are what make us who we are and aren't necessarily bad. What I see as an imperfection in a piece of jewelry I have made, someone else sees as a quality that comes from being handmade, or they don't see it at all. Like Willow's eyes. Crossed eyes are considered a defect in the Siamese breed and a disqualifier in shows. But I wouldn't have her anyway else. Her crossed eyes make her the goofy-looking, clumsy, sweet cat that she is.
I know I would tell you here, if you asked, to accept your imperfections, and perhaps even embrace them, but while I think I've become a bit easier on myself as I have aged, I'm not sure I'm ready for that.
As I thought of these things, I chose my leaves. And they are not perfect, but they beautiful as they are and the best they will be.
- ► 2012 (8)
- ► 2011 (19)
- ▼ June (6)