Well, I think so. And I think so mostly because I ain't perfect at nothing. Like, I haven't sung in ONE Seattle concert where I didn't make a mistake. Not one. Even the performance where I was flaw-free vocally and lyrics-wise in one of my songs, still found me nearly falling on my face when my heel got caught on the stairs I was descending. I had to pause and wrench it free, to the giggles of the audience. I mean, I have rewritten lyrics by accident, switched up verses, BLARED out a high note just . . . everso . . . slightly . . . beneath . . . . where it should have been, invented entirely new notes, and once even restarted the same song THREE TIMES.
In point of very very fact (doesn't that sound lawyerly and smart and stuff?) I have given very few theatrical performances where I said every line in a show as it was written. And it is rare that I've posted a bit of writing that I wouldn't have gone back and fixed if I'd had a few more hours with it.
And then there's art. Now, I'm not deluded into thinking I'm an actual artist. And it's a good thing too. I mean look at the mismatched eyeballs and arm-lengths and proportions of my stuff. Not to mention bits that cannot quite be identified–even by me:
But my son says he likes my pictures all wonky like that. He says that life isn't perfect and neither are we. So it's nice to see that slightly out-of-whackness in my drawings.
If that really is the case then hey, it works for me. Because I cannot draw things evenly. I can't make one side match the other. And most of the time if it looks right, it's a total accident.
Hmmm.
I'm thinking maybe this is a good way to live life. I don't know if men put themselves under the same kinds of pressure that women do to be perfect, but I suspect it's pretty universal. Just in different ways. The thing is, when you watch someone perform aren't you kind of rooting for them? Hoping they'll succeed? Whether its in a play or on the football field, doesn't your heart just stress-out for a person when they make mistakes, and don't you hope they'll recover? And when that person does recover–whether it is by making the next brilliant maneuver or being witty and clever, don't you love them even more?
Yeah. You do. And so do I.
So maybe we don't need to stress out so much. Maybe we can just relax. I say, let's celebrate imperfection. Most of the cool things we take for granted and use every day were invented by accident anyway (Tollhouse cookies anyone?). Who knows what our imperfections will bring to the world? Run with it. See where it goes. Enjoy it. Maybe someone else's life will be made easier because of it.
(Plus, if I get the world to buy off on this idea, someone might think my writing and silly drawings are actually brilliant, and they'll name a street after me.)
Peace-out, people. Go forth, fall on your face, and enjoy! You have everyone's permission.
(Would you like to read more about being an imperfect dork? Then check out my article on dealing with Fear here. Have a great and fearless day!)
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