About perfection

    I do not know exactly the time when I broke the surface of a certain curtain above my head, and realized that I was in the middle of something called existence, and felt like building patterns to live by. At the beginning of my journey things had to be in a certain way, to posses a certain lofty feature that made things more "livable." And that I understood it as perfection. So I was a perfectionist, and such mental construction was mostly acquired through dreams, upbringings, or some assimilated knowledge.

    In my mind perfection was a goal to look for, things like... all or nothing, one life- one love, a certain order of things, certain quality, certain this or that. But I came to know the hard way that such perfection is rigid and barely reflects the reality of human existence. Soon enough, my tower of perfections was crumbling, and depression and anxieties kicked in; in my stubbornness and lack of flexibility I was mourning  on the side of a pile of broken pieces.

    But one day I just embraced flexibility,  and I was free. Free to see things as they were and move along. Or as a bird who flies above and makes nests in safe places. Flexibility is a way to accept my own change, of others, or of things. At the core of each remains an essence, mostly unchangeable, a familiar site of perpetual return. And perfection still finds its place here, in the midst of change, not as a rigid pattern, but something lively...

Comments

  1. DavidJune 7, 2022 at 5:51 AM

    "such perfection is rigid and barely reflects the reality of human existence" true

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    Replies
    1. cara forestieriJune 7, 2022 at 10:18 PM

      Mi se pare destul de dificil sa-mi clarific ideile cu privire la subiectul asta. Dar scrierea in sine e o incercare...

      Delete

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