The word IMPERFECT actually spells I’M PERFECT.
Because everyone is perfect in their own imperfect ways.
Isn’t it funny how you can be searching for something and you can’t find it and, after hours of searching, you finally find it in the oddest of places, usually the most obvious? All day I’ve been trying to think of something interesting to blog about. The last couple of days have been uneventful here at Chez Lunatic. Two kids have been fighting some cold bug, I think it’s trying to catch me, and yesterday was just a long day all around with sniffles and coughs. The most interesting thing I’ve done in two days is watch Cloud Atlas finally. I couldn’t even watch it without 20 interruptions but what I did manage to catch was fantastic. I am definitely going to be watching it again without interruptions. The Wachowski’s cannot make a bad movie. They just cannot. I have loved everything they’ve made. Cloud Atlas was no exception and I’m glad I haven’t read the book yet, so it can’t ruin the movie, and vice versa. And that is a first for me to say because I always try to read the books before the movies.
Back to today’s topic. I ended up coming up with it because my friend, Michelle, texted me. She wanted to show me that she had done her nails. Then she made a comment about how she did them herself and some were crooked. I responded with “perfection is for losers”. That then led to a short conversation about winners and imperfection and that decided my post for today.
For years I have silently railed whenever someone says anything about perfection. I got tired of being told that I had to make everything perfect. My room had to be perfectly clean. My house must be perfectly spotless. My appearance must be perfectly groomed. I strived to be perfect for others. I was told I was a perfectionist because I liked having everything in its place and everything was in order. Until one day I realized something. I’m not perfect. There is absolutely no way I will ever be perfect. Perfection is subjective to one’s perception and, therefore, unattainable. From that point on I didn’t let something out of place bother me. I worked on leaving things a little messy for a short time because the truth is, there are other things more important than making sure every little thing is perfect.
We are all of us imperfect beings. We should be glad of that. What I told Michelle in my text was that winners are never perfect, that it’s everyone else who think they are. Winners know they are imperfect. They know they are just as flawed as the rest of us. They know it, they accept it, and they move on, working every day to be better than they were the day before. That’s me. I know I’m imperfect and I revel in that. It’s my imperfections that make me who I am. When I love someone, it’s not just for what I think is best about them. I love them completely, flaws and all. That’s how I want someone to love me. I want someone who will look at me and think I am completely beautiful in my imperfection. He will love my stubbornness because it becomes determination in another light. My inability to come up with a comeback reply to an insult will make him smile because he knows I’m not dumb, just flabbergasted at the moment that he managed to get the better of me. My scars are the battles I’ve been through in life and without them I just would not be me. Don’t try to change me because you don’t like my faults. I’m not a doll. I will never be one. (Darn, now I want to re-watch all of Joss Whedon’s Dollhouse.)
I love people’s imperfections even when I’m frustrated and annoyed with them because that is who they are. And why would you ever want to be perfect when you are perfect already with all of your human frailties? Imperfection is what makes us human, not gods. Glory in that. I’m not saying you should let yourself go, or that you should give up trying to be your best. No, I’m not saying that at all. Strive every day to be better than the person you were the day before. But don’t forget that you are human and be nice to yourself when you screw up. I screw up all the time, and yet, my kids, my family, and my friends still love me, my cats still think I’m the best cat bed/scratching post ever, and I have the knowledge that tomorrow I’ll watch the sun rise and have the opportunity to be better than I was yesterday, even if the day sucks lemons. I’ll just try and make lemonade…with vodka.
As an example for you, I have this story. Yesterday was a really long, frustrating day and I was feeling ill, which led to a short time period where I just felt like nothing was going right. I got down about things and felt like a complete wreck of a being. So I texted my other friend, Tracy. During the course of the conversation she said a couple of things to me that, not only made me laugh, but made me realize just how she sees me all the time, something I can never see in myself. She said first, “You’re driving the car in what you feel is the right direction. You can’t help if the road is speed bumps and potholes. And when you get to a washed out bridge, you not only figure out how to get across, but you try to make sure the people that come after you can, too.” The she said this, “Even when things suck for you, you try not to let it affect others and a lot of the time you try and make things better for someone else. Stuck in a pit of snakes you’d be shouting instructions to make sure the scones were done perfectly for tea for someone who once shook hands with the Queen.” Yep. Except that’d be at the same time I’m freaking out about the snakes and trying to figure out how to build the damn ladder to get me the heck out of that stupid pit. (I’m an incredible multi-tasker at times.) Don’t you just hate it when your friends know you as well as, if not better than, you know yourself? Me neither. They love me and I love them. But, all joking aside, she was right. Even when I’m upset about something that’s gone wrong, either because of something I’ve done or caused or just from miscommunication between people, I try to be better instead of perfect. I try to do something that will help those who come after me.
I am completely, unashamedly, unapologetically imperfect. I am amazing.