Imperfections are Perfection

I see we had a visitor last night, naughty old witch. I say this with love and affection. She is still cackling in the corner.

Do you remember the game Perfection? Or even Simon Says? This is when I really began to see this part of my mind striving for ultimate perfection.

It was a cool day and I raced to my friends place on my bike that fall, I was pretty young. We had no idea what we were going to do and after a while of humming and debating we settled on the Perfection game.  I had never played this before and so I was being informed on the rules. Put all the pieces in before it popped up. I was thinking how easy this would be.

The game began, over and over we kept playing and aiming to master our skills so it did not pop up and still have pieces in our hands. It frustrated me. How could I not get all the pieces in the time frame. We moved on to other things to do and I kept bringing her back to the game. We would sit in her bed talking and there I was still trying to figure it out.

Now if I categorized all the pieces would that help? If I quickly took all in one area and figured it out in sections would that make it easier. Finally I figured it out and beat the clock.

That moment showed how inside I had this ultimate need to control the situation and become my version of perfection. This is how my life became a strive for this “perfection.”

I aimed to be the best in everything I did; from basketball, track, school, volunteer work, work, my brain would constantly look at every task and aim for its perfection. Like the clock on the game I did not give myself room to take it all in. I wasn’t always in the moment. I wasn’t always grateful for it. I sometimes would strive so hard I missed the point till later and then had my a-ha moment then or a clearer understanding.

To others and family I had a perfection point or as I would say, just call me Martha. (I truly love all she has taught me.) at some point I didn’t give myself the room to make a mistake and if I did, wow did my self critic come out swinging and mad. How could I make this simple mistake, how did you not catch it? Not to mention all the worthless names he would tell me I am.

It deflated me, and then I would have to start rebuilding my wall to keep me sheltered from it all and those around me including my self critic (myself). I had to ensure it didn’t happen again, or by some people, they choose to remind me constantly as an example and those same feelings were always being heaved up.

This week I signed up to learn how to paint. The techniques, the type of brush strokes, and the biggest and best reason is to draw out the emotion that sits in the centre of my body that is so black and hangs on to my guts with such strength. I had read a post recently and it is so on point. Here is to getting covered in paint, making tons of mistakes, being in the moment, to embracing the darkness inside in the eyes and seeing me, the real me.

“You can’t hide from inner shit. Nope. You can’t sleep it off. You can’t surgically remove it. You can’t eat/buy/wish/exercise it away. You have to turn towards it and embrace it. Look into its eyes. Be patient and so @&$?ing tender. Then get intimate with it until it shows you another way, a different you.” Thug Unicorn by Tanya Markul

Love your imperfections!! The Woman in Process

 

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