Thank you Molly Mahar – whoever and wherever you are. This resonates with me. Especially the mistakes part. I have made and continue to make a lot of mistakes. Even if I were less self-deprecating, I wouldn’t register on the perfection scale, and that’s a-ok with me. Of course there are things I’d like to do better, and I’ll keep trying – but perfection? No thanks. Not only is it illusory, it’s a state of hubris which in and of itself is imperfect and insufferable, so there you go. I choose to break the cycle before it starts.
What I can stop doing is obsessing about all the things that I don’t get right. The conversations that miss a beat, the nuance I fail to notice. Not checking in with my friends and family enough (whether or not they check in with me with the same frequency), taking tomorrow as a given when I should consider it a gift. Over-thinking. Oh that’s a big one. I looked at the quarter moon this morning and thought it looked like the perfect tip of a french manicure (which by the way, isn’t really French at all..). And then I considered this an insult to the moon. All of the magnificent analogies about ‘la luna’ and I end up with a french manicure? How ridiculous. But I digress (something else I do way too often – please tell me that is part of my charm)…Holding on to something way past its expiration date. Adding so many ‘shoulds’ to the ingredients of my daily stew that I end up stewing so long that the meat of the day is too tough and chewy to be delicious. I could go on, believe me – and this would end up being a tome. Boring and self-focused, and a tome.
I’m working on the adventurous part. Lately I have pulled back and in, needing the security of my home and the time to delight in little events in the day that often go unnoticed in the quest for intrepid activity. There was some Hatfield & McCoy turf war in the trees yesterday afternoon (well at least that’s what I think was happening). Scores of wrens were chirping at each other, flying back and forth frantically between two trees, circling with the derision that only one wren can have for another. Despite the absence of wind, the trees were shaking with vigor generated by this family feud. One woodpecker was apparently trying to broker a deal – giving up eventually because his shrieks did nothing to appease anyone. An adventure? Perhaps not, but in my head the story unfolded as one.
And yes, earlier this week a stranger in the Starbucks line started to talk to me and I responded with “You can see me?!” (Long story, but a few of us in the blogosphere agreed to do this – and I was the only one who did – do I know how to have an adventure or what?). The person replied, “Of course..” and kept talking. So much for seeking adventure. I guess adventure comes to she who just keeps her eyes open throughout the day.
So I’m thinking that it’s time to arrive at the place where I accept myself as being enough. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to continue to try to be a better person, wife, mom, sister, friend – but perhaps with a little less self-flagellation in the process. I’ll remember that the gorgeousness of humanity is in the sparkle of the soul. And of one thing I am certain – we all look great in sparkles.
Waiting for the Karma Truck 