The other morning OH said to me “there were two young women on the television” “oh yes” “and they said how much pressure they were under to be perfect, was that the same for you?” “um, no”.
It got me thinking. Yes, I’m afraid I’ve been weeding again. I am very vulnerable to excess of thoughts whilst in this condition.
I thought, what a terrible way to live, with the belief that nothing less than perfect will do. Perfect exam results, perfect hair, perfect boyfriend, perfect job, perfect children. An unachievable goal which means you spend your life unfulfilled and frustrated. It goes part way to explain the incessant selfies, the public yearnings for approval, the need for friends to say “you are beautiful” “you are wonderful”. No it was not like that for me and I pitied them.
Then I thought, but I am guilty too. I discard any photographs with a miscoloured petal, or blotched leaf. Although I don’t use photoshop I often crop my pictures, getting rid of an unsightly defoliated twig or spent flower. Perfect plants, perfect people. They really don’t exist. Well except me of course, I am just faultless!
Here are some roses, they are less than perfect, they are wonderful in their imperfection.