Hubby took this photo many years ago and it struck me as something seemingly out of place – imperfect, if you will. How did that beer bottle get lodged in the rubble of that old roof? There’s evidence that a human has been there and everywhere else you go, even on the moon.

I suppose we try to put things in order, align and match, as some illusionary effort of control. Nothing escapes these attempts and, yet, where’s the perfection? I have been trying to perfect me and the world my whole life only to manage to always come up short. Oddly, I have the innate ability to perfect what I’m working on, while completely ignoring everything else around me.

I’ll want to get my writing perfect, down to the last comma, while my piano reveals the dust of my signature. It’s selective and I know it, yet, not alone as I see a lot of it these days; especially in the midst of this pandemic, where we notice those imperfections of others not so easily noticed in us.

Life is just imperfect and, for me, I’m really seeing it in a profound way in giving up trying to fix things. There will always be injustices and, perhaps, the point is not to right the wrongs but to bring something better into the equation – maybe, the best of both sides.

I’ve recently considered possibly some of the battles I’ve had within myself are rooted in history with parents from the North and South. Even though the Civil War in the U.S has long been fought and is over, there will still remain distinctive beliefs supporting each side to the extent of rioting and killing. It’s gotten to extremes in demanding rights completing discounting the fact others may have rights, too. Why is it we try so hard to get others to believe our way? We think life would be so much easier if others would just do what we want them to do.

On the lighter side, it’s quite funny, when I think of it, in the many situations where my imperfections have showed up – in fact; it’s been like a spotlight augmenting the flaws. I think at this stage in my life I’ve learned to embrace it and love the quirkiness of it all. Hubby can tell you that for so long, having lived with me for over 53 years, between him and girls, I’m surprised the outcomes have turned out as good as they did.

It usually shows up when I’m not true to myself. I’ll try to do something like someone else or want to give a good impression. Or, when I don’t have the courage to follow my own instincts and instead follow along with everyone else. And, also it’s particularly revealing when I have something in mind that I want to do and don’t want to take the time to consider the consequences and think it through.

An early example is when hubby and I were first dating (and I don’t know why I’m sharing this). We were parked after a movie and talking before having to get home. It was dark and, in the stillness, the moment was perfect as hubby pulled me close to hold and kiss me. As he held me tight I felt the cup of my bra fold in but didn’t think much of it. A few moments afterwards – still in the moment and silence – there was a “pop” where my bra sprang back out. It was awkward and spontaneous and we both burst out laughing. I was glad it was dark and you couldn’t see how embarrassed I was but happy another date followed. Now, you can’t make that stuff up.

Another time was when I drove the girls down a back way off a mountain trail to empty their snails in a stream. That was probably not a good idea either. The hill coming back up was so steep I had a hard time getting any traction. Halfway up, I lost my momentum in the climb and slowed down long enough where the tires just started spinning. Every time I tried the car would shift sideways and wasn’t getting a grip. Because the hill was so steep and the car had gotten sideways so far it looked as if it could tip over. So, the girls bailed on the higher side and I managed to get out too. They ran back home and a neighbor graciously came to our rescue.

I suppose imperfections also show up in making bad choices. Maybe somewhere deep inside of us there’s a moment, when the results could be avoided if we took the time to listen. But, in our headstrong quest we boldly forge ahead. One such event like that happened in making a wrong choice. If I had paused long enough I probably would have done something differently.

Again, the girls were with me. They “enjoyed” these adventures with me and so enjoyed sharing them with their dad. We were downtown Denver, Colorado, in a ’77 Ford Van (orange – go Broncos). We came to the entrance of a parking garage, where a pole is suspended by chains to stop you long enough from entering to consider the height of your vehicle.

I stopped. I even think I got out to look and assess whether I had the clearance or not to proceed. I concluded that I did and continued on but didn’t consider the vent we had just installed on top of the van. I realized it was too late then and no going back after going under one of the main concrete beams . . . “shhhh”! It was “shhhh” all the way through the parking garage until we finally came out on the other side.

I’m making light attempting to interject some humor in the complexities of life and some of the difficult events we’re experiencing in these times. It gets hard when we insist on doing things the way we see it. We live in a world of right-wrong, up-down, in-out and the universe will be patient and allow us to go on beating the wind to justify our position and rights until we pause long enough to consider that’s the point. Eventually, in the challenging struggles and frustrations we’ll look for another way and there it will be.

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing
and rightdoing there is a field.
I’ll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass
the world is too full to talk about.” ― Rumi

Life is serious and there’s a lot of heavy stuff happening that’s not to be taken lightly. But, we’re all in this ride together on this big beautiful world taking another trip around the sun. It could be so much better if we’d pulled together in finding a better way to solve these challenges and embrace the imperfections.

Pat from the ‘ol kitchen table