I read somewhere that one of the smoothest roads to happiness is to develop an ability to see the positive aspects of those things which, at first glance, may appear to be negatives.
Boy, am I familiar with negatives which seem to be multiplying at my house as I anticipate the arrival of spring.
I can’t get my bank statement to balance, the kitchen sink is dripping and the Christmas decorations still clutter the guest room, waiting patiently and annoyingly to be taken to the attic. Can’t anyone around here do something for themselves!
To make things worse, I wandered around the garden at dawn to observe what perennials might be poking through. Some kind of thorny vine seems to have taken over the landscape. My porch lights are so dusty you can hardly tell there’s a light bulb in inside.
There’s this green tint to the house -I think they call it mildew, and I’m feeling a little green myself. In an effort to avoid insanity, I sat down and made a list of all the spring cleaning chores that need doing. It took two pages. I was so overwhelmed, I wanted to go back to bed and pull the covers over my head.
But no I told myself, be strong. I vowed take one chore each day and work on it at least 30 minutes. Baby steps, sure, but maybe in a couple of months the place won’t look so ragged.
Do we ever find a modicum of perfection in our lives? Maybe without the imperfect, we wouldn’t be able to enjoy or appreciate those perfect moments in our lives. Would we ever have a good hair day if we never had a bad hair day? (I wouldn’t know because I’m still waiting on a good hair day to show up.)
Some people insist we can find beauty hidden within the imperfections of life. Mona Lisa’s half-crooked smile, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, or the pain of birth which produces new life are good examples of beautiful imperfection.
Right now I’m gazing at a fire ant bed under construction and trying to assign it some quality of beauty.
Nevertheless, what purpose would our lives have if we were not challenged to rise above imperfections? Life would eventually get pretty boring if everything were perfect, if we had no home improvement projects to excite us, no closets to clean out, no kitchen to clean up before we get it dirty again.
Simply put, imperfections add purpose to our lives. Without them, we would have nothing to reach for on our life’s journey. At least, this is the message I’m trying to ram through my skull.
Today, I’ll tackle the Christmas decorations. Then again, it’s only 10 months until I’ll need to take them down again. I think I’ll let them live in the guest room – I won’t even need to change the sheets.
I read somewhere that as machines become more and more efficient and perfect, so it will become clear that the imperfection of man is what makes him human. Then, again, the writer was talking about men, not women.