Nothing’s perfect.

Have you ever looked at a brand new building and noticed not how nice it is but what its imperfections are? Go to the nicest, fanciest places you know and look for the marks of mortality. They are there. Splashes of mud left by splattering rain. Dots of paint where they shouldn’t be.  Stains on carpets.  Marks on walls. Nothing stays perfect.

We have newly painted front walls which surround our front yard. After we finished the paint job, the difference was remarkable. We had many comments of how beautiful it looked. But it was far from perfect; even today I noticed how the birds are beautifying the wall with their business. It’s the nature of the world we live in. Nice things fade. They get dirty. They get old, and all of their imperfections become ever so obvious.

But imperfection doesn’t stop there. Imperfection exists in everything.

There’s no perfect novel. There’s no perfect painting. There’s no perfect relationship. There’s no perfect piece of technology. There’s no perfect day. There’s no perfect sunset. There’s no perfect complexion. There’s no perfect food. There’s no perfect person.

We strive to do our best in many areas, but we continually fall short of perfection. In every way.

I think it would do us all good to remember this. Writers, don’t compare yourself to other writers. Don’t compare your relationships with other peoples relationships. Don’t wish for the image of perfection that you see because only an image it is. A mirage. A windmill. Reality is not how it appears.

But, likewise, don’t expect perfection from others.

If we can remember that we are imperfect beings on an imperfect world, how much more forgiving and tolerant will we be of others.

So I’ll strive to be the best writer I can be, but in the process, I’ll remember to be myself – faults and all.  If I can do that, I think I’ll be better off for it.

Imperfection is the essence of humanity. Embrace it for all its worth. Learn from it, and move on.