Nobody's Perfect
I just went over my last blog entry and I was surprised to learn that there were so many spelling errors. I'm so ashamed. I usually do a quick spell and grammar check plus a little proofreading but obviously I didn't then.
Imperfection... I am made of this. I see it every time I look out the window, walk down the street and look in the mirror. Life isn't perfect, the world isn't perfect and people most certainly are not perfect. In a strange way I find a great deal of beauty in the imperfections. I'm drawn to the crack in the road, the small scar on her cheek, the way he stammers when he receives a compliment.
Maybe it's because when I see that other things and other people are flawed, I don't feel so bad about my own flaws. Imperfections are natural and beautiful. They even make us more unique than we already are. They are personal and painful. They are plentiful and proud. They bring our worst fears to fruition and paralyze us. They fill us with piss and vinegar and give us the courage to spit in the face of negative forces.
Tonight I embrace my imperfections. Tonight I am content and happy to misspell things once in a while. For a brief moment I am okay with my weight. Right now I am laughing at my ability to lose my cookies sometimes in the presence of a lovely woman. I love my birth marks and flat feet. I am embracing myself and living in the moment, the imperfect moment, while I realize that nothing's perfect.
I just went over my last blog entry and I was surprised to learn that there were so many spelling errors. I'm so ashamed. I usually do a quick spell and grammar check plus a little proofreading but obviously I didn't then.
Imperfection... I am made of this. I see it every time I look out the window, walk down the street and look in the mirror. Life isn't perfect, the world isn't perfect and people most certainly are not perfect. In a strange way I find a great deal of beauty in the imperfections. I'm drawn to the crack in the road, the small scar on her cheek, the way he stammers when he receives a compliment.
Maybe it's because when I see that other things and other people are flawed, I don't feel so bad about my own flaws. Imperfections are natural and beautiful. They even make us more unique than we already are. They are personal and painful. They are plentiful and proud. They bring our worst fears to fruition and paralyze us. They fill us with piss and vinegar and give us the courage to spit in the face of negative forces.
Tonight I embrace my imperfections. Tonight I am content and happy to misspell things once in a while. For a brief moment I am okay with my weight. Right now I am laughing at my ability to lose my cookies sometimes in the presence of a lovely woman. I love my birth marks and flat feet. I am embracing myself and living in the moment, the imperfect moment, while I realize that nothing's perfect.