Monday, August 23, 2004

I Understand You Perfectly

Ha. What is perfection, anyway? Perfection, in my opinion, doesn't really exist. It's just someone's ideas on what "should be true," mixed together to for a standard. And "perfection" is different for everyone -- no two people are exactly the same, or have exactly the same ideas, and so "perfection" is a nonexistant beast, a half-hearted attempt at someone's goals.
I say half-hearted because if someone really wants to achieve their goals, they don't aim at "perfection." Because there is no "perfection." You can aim for the "impossible," because someone's "impossible" is someone else's challenge, and extremely possible if attempted hard enough. But "perfection" is nothing but a smoke demon, here to tempt you with goals that cannot be reached, here to encourage your frustration when you find yourself grasping at handfuls of empty air. Perfection does not exist.
Don't get me wrong here. It's good to have high goals and standards, but please don't beat yourself up when you can't live up to your own expectations. Nobody can be perfect. No living person on earth. Nobody.
Believe me, I've made the mistake of aiming towards perfection. I have tried to do the impossible, and sometimes succeeded, but perfection always remains just outside my grasp. And I can't do anything about it. But I can decide not to take it out on myself when I can't meet my own standards of perfection. Which is something I am frequently forgetting.
Perfection is not a destination. It can never exist. Even if you do manage to meet your own standards of perfection, or you find someone else who does, it will never last for long. Sooner or later your standards will change; you'll notice things you didn't notice before; things you used to love now get on your nerves. This is normal, and acceptable -- but only if you come to grips with your own lack of perfection. Perfection is an idea, and abstract idea, that cannot be physically grasped on this spinning sphere we call home. Nowhere on Earth does perfection exist -- no person, no man-made wonder, no nation, no species, nothing anywhere on Earth.
So then why do we keep seeking for it? Why does humanity hunt down this elusive idea as if it was the solution to all life's problems? Why can't we just learn to be happy with what we have, and learn to accept that which we cannot have?
It is because we are human, and being human means being imperfect. And the quest for perfection is just one of our many flaws...



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