Perfection and Misery

Unremarkable

Back bent

knees grinding in the dirt

Weeds get pulled from the garden

No wild thing needs to grow here

Soon, the gardener forgets which are the weeds

and anything more beautiful than it should be

is gone

by Christina Lynn Lambert

pine

In the struggle for perfection, sometimes the beautiful flaws, the anomalies, the strange beginnings, they all get torn apart and thrown away. And the things that couldn’t be torn out? For some, the ultimate goal is to cast a rosy glow over grief or struggle until their pain is hidden and sharp edges are blurred to prove that a flawless existence is achievable. But that search for perfection is its own kind of misery.

It’s often the faults, mistakes, and imperfections that shape a person with strength and humility. Should that truth be hidden in favor of an image or persona that promises only peace and beauty? We all have to choose what we hide and what we show. Personally, I’d rather take a rusty spike through the head than have some emotional talk about my feelings or flaunt every flaw and mistake I’ve ever made since I was old enough to screw up. I just have to remind myself not to pull too many weeds.