per·fec·tion / pərˈfekSH(ə)n/ – the condition, state, or quality of being free or as free as possible from all flaws or defects.
The idea of being perfect once offered me something finite – a finish, closure, an end. It was something I could strive for and achieve. An expected goal. It was an old familiar feeling and very comfortable, however it was a form of imprisonment.
Freedom from flaws was a hard task, restrictive and near impossible. It was like the Geisha, living a life of controlled gestures, highly skilled and pleasing others.
Striving for perfection is demanding, exhausting and all consuming: driven by an external force of never feeling enough and always keeping it together.
But what if there is no perfection in life and nature – only cycles? Cycles impulse around and around, they are naturally and forevermore expanding and evolving, there is no end to these cycles. There is no stagnation, only change.
Can we measure perfection? Being perfect at a task, by the way we look, by what we do, say or think?
Perhaps we cannot measure perfection because we are forever evolving? This means that there must be change in everything we think, do and express. We are forever expanding and can always go deeper… in our conversations, our movements, in our connection with self.
What if our expression in life will never be perfect and nor should it be; perhaps being perfect is just a concept we have hung onto, thinking that in some way it made us ‘better’ or more lovable.
In the past, believing the idea of perfection pushed me to improve, achieve, to try, and to separate from my natural flow and beauty as a woman. In choosing to try to be perfect it often took me so far away from myself that I felt disconnected from life and my inner feelings.
Being a perfectionist felt like I had no sense of humour; it felt like wearing a suit of armour and having tightly bound feet, restrictive and joyless. It was seemingly protecting me from the hurts of the world, but really it blocked the love within me from expressing outwards.
Perfectionism held me back from being my gorgeous, playful, fluid and powerful self. In many ways trying to be perfect has prevented me from truly connecting with others, never allowing myself to feel unravelled, exposed and free to walk my own path. I have been lost in the illusion that ‘I am only worthy of love if I am perfect’. This simply is not true.
The truth is that I am not perfect and deep within me is a knowing that this is okay… as there is no such thing as perfection.
Imperfection is real, fresh, sexy and alive in its fullness and is ever-changing.
I no longer choose to be a perfectionist. I am unwinding the tightly bound beliefs of this imposition. I am slipping out of the corset and straitjacket of glamour and unhinging the ‘love blocking’ suit of armour. I have removed the facade and taken off the mask. Every day I feel more light and lovely – I am now enjoying appreciating myself without the need to be perfect.
In fact, I feel the true beauty within me that is strong, still, powerful and forever evolving. I now know who I am. I am an extraordinarily beautiful Woman just being myself, and there is no room for perfection in that. I am worthy of the deep love that flows from within me and is expressed out to the world every single day. I celebrate this love and appreciate all that I am without perfection.
Imperfection allows growth and unfoldment, movement and magic in every moment. It has its own Divine order and greater plan, in which I now trust. I am imperfectly perfect.
By Kathryn Fortuna, Inner Image Consultant