I heard the phrase 'perfectly imperfect' as a description of life. It makes sense in so many ways. Life isn't perfect. No one is perfect. Interesting.
I'll be the first to admit that I'm a perfectionist. I'm sure that my close family and friends will agree with that statement. I try to do the right things in the right ways. But that's tiring.
Trying to be perfect bites me in the tousshie (hindparts). At some point, I have to accept that something is good as it is. Just like Goldilocks found the chair, bed, and porridge that was just right, I have to find the job, life, and love that's just right. Ain't life grand...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment