I have this nasty habit: I tend to strive for perfection. I just need things to be SO. Like I like them. Working out the way I want.
I think, If it’s perfect, then I don’t have to worry.
‘Gotta laugh at myself — because it’s actually the need to make it perfect that causes me to worry in the first place.
Perfection is the chains, fence, cuffs, ropes and straightjacket that squeeze the breath out of our lives.
We know why. Because NOTHING’S perfect.
But also because perfection is really just FEAR dressed in a perfectly pressed ball gown with one million meticulously sewn on rhinestones.
It’s a job for our anxiety (since perfection just loves to work and multi-task).
And gives us something TO DO (since we dread if in one given moment we aren’t doing something, our whole life will extinguish itself in one big blast.)
Why do we still strive for perfection when we know it’s nihilistic and only serves to annihilate us? Why do we teach our kids to color in between the lines? Why do we obsess over immaculate spotlessness?
Or perhaps a better question might be:
Why do one million people every year visit a small town in Italy called Pisa? NOT to see a beautifully built cathedral, but rather its tilting bell-tower.
And why did Einstein state that as far as the laws of mathematics refer to reality, they are not certain; and as far as they are certain, they do not refer to reality?
If a group of students all painted the same still-life painting perfectly, wouldn’t they just end up looking like a bunch of Xeroxed photographs?
Imperfections and “mistakes” are actually creativity’s guides:
They take us on new adventures to traverse unknown, exciting territories.
They spark the unexpected that bring enchantment, beauty and magic into our daily lives.
They bring allure, attraction, charm and chutzpah.
Every single time I’ve painted an image that I thought was a mistake, I look back at the painting later on and it’s what I love most about it.
I thought I wanted it to be different, only creativity knew better.
Every time I hated something because it looked ugly and not picture perfect,the moments after I gave in, I felt a hundred times better.
Perfection makes us grasp for control — even if we know it’s not ours to have.
We feel the need to be more than human, Super Human at that. We forget the true nature of our “beingness.”
In reality, perfection is just plain boring. It strips us of all imagination, individuality and inventiveness.
Let’s turn it up and revel in the mistake-making freaks of nature that we are. Otherwise, we aren’t living this big beautiful life creativity intended for us.
Wishing you a week of messing it ALL up!