Why are we always running in the pursuit of perfection? Does it even exist? I often buy things that bring me joy because they make me feel like I own those happy moments. However, I refrain from using most of them; instead, I securely store them, keeping them untouched. Why is it that I don’t use them? Am I scared that the wear and tear will wreck them? Why do we live in the apprehension of ruining something? Why does the fear of disappointment always pull us back from living to the fullest? In the dread of something unknown, why do we miss out on the joy that is present?
The books I buy are to be written in, the clothes I purchase are to be worn, and the emotions I feel are to be expressed. Why do I restrict myself? Why am I depriving others of what they deserve? Why wait for the flower to bloom when you can be a part of it right from when it is a bud? The only answer I have is that I may be afraid of bursting the bubble of perfection — an idea constructed upon countless expectations and demands.
Building a comfortable space around all those tiny things that make us feel merrier, we embrace them and leave behind things that engulf us with anger. Perhaps we are searching for imperfections to discover how much of it we can accept. As we evolve in life, so do our ideals and thoughts. While learning all these traits and decoding the silences, we come across those tiny moments of bliss that lead us toward our idea of perfection.
What I consider perfect may appear bizarre to someone else. The things that fill me with awe might leave someone else perplexed. Perfection is merely an idea, and we all have our versions of it. Sometimes, we borrow others’ ideas and spend our lives hoping to find them. Lately, I have realized that, for me, it is a wide range, a blend of genuineness, warmth, compassion, and peace.
Perfections are always bound to standards and expectations, but imperfections are free from all those norms. They evolve and take forms that we least expect, but to see them grow into something that we have always wished for is solace. I hope to explore new dimensions of joy and fulfillment, steering clear of unrealistic ideals. I sure shall make mistakes, but this time around, I hope not to be afraid.
coffee table 