I am far from complete. I am an unfinished manuscript, collecting dust on a forgotten shelf. I am merely half a canvas, splattered paint that is yet to be a masterpiece. And that’s okay with me. Why would I want to be complete? That would mean the world was done with me.
I have not been sculpted to perfection yet, my fine details are still to be sketched. I would not want to rush the process of perfection, I do not wish for my metamorphosis to be instantaneous.
I want the world to take its time with me. Mold my soul with patience and attentiveness, Lead me to walk through darkness when I am convinced there is no light. Teach me lessons that will shape me into the final version of who I am to be.
I care very little for immediate perfection. I know that society is obsessed with getting it right from the start and I am sorry if I come across as self-righteous, but you’re wrong.
Life is about living. Living is about trying. Trying and learning; never failing. Failing suggests that nothing came of it. There is always a purpose, always a lesson to be learned. This obsession with perfection will only cause you pain; I speak from experience. I, too, wanted everything, now. I almost demanded it, trying to manifest it at my feet. But that is not how this works. If you believe that is the unquestionable truth, you will not live. Seeing lessons as failures will only fill your life with frustration and misery. Perfection is only attainable when our manuscripts are complete. Perfection is within that finished masterpiece.
To live is to try. Those lessons you see as imperfections, they are the words that fill your manuscripts and the brush strokes that create your masterpiece. Trying is the meaning of life. Because we are human. Humans are not perfect. We are never always right and mistakes are what make us individuals.
Your soul is a constellation of imperfections. Imperfections that resulted from a lifetime of trying.
And maybe perfection is not attainable when we reach our conclusions; not in the way you believe perfection to be. Perfection is when you have learned and absorbed every possible thing that life had to offer you. Perfection is closing your eyes for the final time, accumulating every imperfection you collected over the years. Perfection is having spent a lifetime trying.
This is me being dedicated to trying. Trying to learn from those sweet imperfections I am committed to loving. This is me trying to enjoy the process of my chapters being written. This is me trying to live.