To me beauty can be found in imperfection. Maybe that is why I love old things. Items once new to an owner, proudly bought with hard-earned money. No longer new, no longer shiny but showing its wounds gathered through life. Looking at an old table, I am reminded of its history and the scars and scratches that prove it has a real, time worn existence. People are like that too. No one goes through life living in pure perfection.
Oh we start out such innocent babes, cooing and smiling and adored by loved ones. As we travel down our chosen path, we bump and bruise ourselves inside and out. Wrong choices and bad decisions scar our souls a bit. Yet many of us strive to have a perfect home, perfect marriage, perfect family…perfect life. You know, the whole picket fence deal and money lining our pockets and a family dog fetching the daily paper. But who really has obtained real perfection. No one. It is not reality. We can not successfully learn and grow in life without making mistakes along the way. That is how humanity evolves. That is what makes us real.
I try to embrace my own imperfections. Alas, there are many. I won’t go into detail here and bore you but….I know many of them by name. I recognize the battle scars inside and out from our many confrontations. I strive to maintain the ability to accept who I am and own who I am. That doesn’t mean that I should not continue to strive to be a better person- imperfect or not.
Yep, I get highlights in my hair and remove some grey. I see the fine lines and wrinkles as they silently make their way on my face. I must remember that I have earned them all. I have survived half a century and it has not been perfect. I smile, (another wrinkle forms) I know that I am a work in progress. I am impatient and it is hard work but it is who I am. I tell myself there is a certain perfection in the imperfections. I smile again and take another step towards tomorrow.