This post started as thoughts mostly related to motherhood, but I think it applies to us all – mothers/fathers, wives/husbands, employees/employers, etc . . . I found this post of Nicola’s on A Step Toward Balance last month, signed up to join, and then forgot about it (you can laugh now – the irony is not lost on me!) Here, belatedly, is a first step – remembering the blessings of imperfection.
Mostly, here is a note to my future self – may you find some grain of truth here, too.
(myself and Ella, 2007 – photo by Ben)
Note to self:
Imperfection is a blessing. After weeks of feeling a sort of mounting panic – too many jobs to do, never enough time to do them, which important work must be left undone?, this gentle reminder from Ben – I am the one pushing myself. No one else.
I have had this thought before, but I seem to need to constantly remind myself, that imperfection is a blessing. It’s said that the Shakers, who were incredible craftspeople, purposefully flawed each item they made, because only God is perfect. It is so easy to feel that we must do everything, and if not perfectly, at least really really well. But: if we were perfect, what would be left to learn? But: if I was perfect, what would be left for my child to create for herself, and her children? Along with my “perfection,” I would be giving her the need to live up to my perfection, and a life of unattainable goals.
So. A reminder of the blessing of imperfections.
My house – not perfectly clean, and it never will be. Welcoming, hopefully.
Our farm – far from perfect, ever-evolving, sometimes blissful, sometimes out of control.
Our businesses – still young, still bumpy, still chaotic at times. Run with heart.
My wardrobe – not chic, not perfectly pressed. In various states of toddler, farm, and bakery wear and tear. Well lived in.
My self – learning, striving for kindness (often failing), trying for gratitude (often forgetting). Hoping to do good in the world, but not at the expense of my family’s sanity. Here. Alive. Imperfectly blessed.