I once had someone say to me they didn’t like the word “perfect.” Perfect was too concise, with too much pressure, and nothing could fully capture the true meaning. I adore the word and think many things can be completely perfect in their imperfection. I was reminded of this when researching a photographer, Laura Letinsky. Letinsky (not Lewsinky) is well-known for her off kilter, and often askew objects in still life.In a world of perfectly structured blogger flat-lays, something as different as a Letinsky photo, may very well be considered odd. Decaying fruit, hanging delicately off-balance at the edge of the table, and the painfully wrinkled white cloth… the type A inside me is screaming to clear the plates! Her work gave me a visceral reaction, and that is how you know it is good.
I think of my own imperfections and realize maybe they make me perfectly who I am…and perhaps that is pretty darn great?! Yes, I can be stubborn, shy away from over-emotion, and sometimes hold grudges, but that makes me who I am as a person. I am not perfect.
There is not such thing as perfection in a human being. We are all flawed beyond exception. I notice a lot of emphasis on the outside, making beautifal what the world outwardly sees. What if we spent more time making the inside beautiful? I know personally I have stopped the inward pressure to look/feel a certain way. I am more concerned with my inner soul and expanding my mind, I want my children to say I was smart and kind – not that I was immaculately coiffed.
With the rise of social media, our lives may feel as if they are constantly on display. The need to over-compensate or project a type of perfect life can sneak in. For example, we may hear after a couple breaks up, “oh, but they looked so happy on their [insert social media platform here].” Of course they looked happy! Likely they don’t post the bad moments, they posted the carefully crafted moments they wanted the world to see.
Perhaps we need some tips from Letinsky – that moldy melon, dirty table, or even a crying baby. Post it. Those moments are what makes our lives whole, and not a scene from The Stepford Wives. Life is messy and perfectly imperfect…enjoy the ride!
For a “perfectly” imperfect predicament, read my recent post: How .33 College Credits Made Me Cry: Part One.