perfect

This is a post about perfection.

Okay, so when I was a 5-year-old, my dad asked me why I use the word "hate".
You know, like kids do it, "I hate this", "I hate that", "I hate peas", et cetera.
So he said, why not say "dislike".
He told me the word "hate" had a lot of negative energy, for me and for others, using a word that strong, that powerful.
So I dropped it, and I don't use it.
I just don't.
I rarely, rarely - rarely - close enough to almost say "never", feel strong enough to "hate" anything, at all.
Strong dislike? Sure.
Hate? No.

I will now.
I hate this search for "perfect", or "perfection".
I hate it.
The Perfect Wedding, the Perfect Man, the PERFECT holiday, the PERFECT dress, the PERFECT hair, the PERFECT PERFECTION.
Seriously.

(.. keep going with me.)

The thing is.
To seek perfection or to seek The Perfect person or state, implies that at some point we get to stop working, and stop growing.
It implies that at some point change will stop occurring.
Therefore, it implies the arrival of stagnation.
Blissful (I'm sure), yet stupid stagnation.
Almost like a catatonic state.

The question is not whether "perfect" exists in this world or not.
I don't care.
The point is that we simply do not - and honestly do not - need it.
We don't need it.
It does us no good.
No good, at all, as living, breathing, sweating, bleeding human beings.
We are alive.
This implies not being stagnant! Ever.
Stagnation in human beings implies a flat-line.
No heartbeat, no blood pressure, no cells growing, and renewing.
Perfection makes us strive for a goal, an end-point, when we really should have two eyes focused on the journey.
This magical, awesome, brilliant journey.
Also called Life.
There is no "perfect", there is no end point.

There is just the boundless giving random-ness of the great Universe kaleidoscope.

Perfect has nothing to do with it.


It's like this phrase: Picture Perfect.
But you know what? It's also un-alive.
And I come at this as someone who has the highest regard for the art of photography, photographers and photos.
I really do value it as an art and respect it, but real life?
Real life is not picture perfect.
This endless talk about - this looks perfect, and that looks perfect.
Fine for selling something, an advertisement, or dolls, and of course snapshots of our memories.
But we cannot be Picture Perfect because we are alive.
And that is magical.
And I don't see why anyone would ever want to change that.
Change the magic of being alive for giving into the hunt for this rigidity.

We are alive, so alive.
Perfection cannot be duplicated.
Maybe newborns are perfect?
Maybe the fact that the sun rises and sets, is perfect?
Maybe flower-like frost on a window, is perfect?
Or maybe laughing till you cry with friends?
But it cannot be manufactured.
It happens.
Maybe it exists after-all.
But to chase it would be certain death for the living cell.

It just Is.
We just Are.

So let's just Be.

Yours truly.
Love and light, as always.
M.