Saturday I was cruising around, trying to decide what to have for lunch, when I found myself back at Cafe Gratitude (it's really good, ya'll). This time I sat at the bar and the bartender was my waiter. I ordered and then he asked me the day's question: What, in your life, is perfect right now? My first thought was "my shoes". I'd finally replaced my old Keen flip flops with new ones. But I couldn't come up with any thing real to tell the guy. He patted the bar in front of me and said "I'll let you think about it for a bit". Great. My life is good, I mean if you ignore the obvious. I'm healthy, I have a reliable vehicle that gets me from point A to B, and I have a wonderful crowd of friends and family. But perfection? Is there really such a thing? I finally told my waiter that my food was the perfect thing. In that moment, it wasn't too much of a lie. I was hungry. But I've never thought about my life in terms of perfection. Maybe because I just don't believe it's possible. Sure there where moments in my life that were close or as close as one could come to it, but I don't think I believe in perfect. We are all flawed in good ways and bad. How can we expect the lives we lead to not be the same?
Every day I get out of bed and make some sort of choice. It sets my intention for the day. I've never once gotten up and looked into my sleep crusted eyes and said "Today I choose to be perfect". I may choose many things. I may choose to be grateful, positive, and even sad and melancholy, but I never choose perfection. Maybe tomorrow I will. Maybe I'll choose to be perfectly flawed. Maybe I'll just choose to accept that I am perfect and it's my flaws, good and bad, that make me that way. Maybe we should all choose that.