Perfection

As I type this, I am watching the trees outside my window, leaves dancing in the wind. Nature provides a steadfast reminder to return to the present moment.

Nature allows me to remember what matters, what is true.

Nature presents opportunities to practice non-judgment, and reciprocates.

Nature doesn’t strive or plan; it just is.

It is interesting to contemplate how we have decided that humans should be different than nature, despite our inherent connection to it.

Would I judge a leaf for being lazy?

Would I try to force the waves of the ocean to change?

Does my dog even realize her belly jiggles when she walks?

Aren’t these aspects of nature “perfect” just the way they are?

Yet I have believed in the illusion of human perfection in big and small ways. I have spent more years than not in pursuit of the perfect me, which entailed lots of doing and not much being.

I used each moment as a means to an end.

I kept people at a distance… they would surely leave once they saw my defects.

Last night, I heard a poem by Danna Faulds, and this line particularly resonated with me:

Perfection is not a prerequisite for anything but pain.

I’ve included the full poem below for those who are interested (it is the most complete and accurate version I could find online).

When we strive for perfection, we miss out on life. The life that is mysterious and here for us. The life that holds much joy and fulfillment, if we can trust.

Lara