Practicing Imperfection
I love this mug because I made it. I chose the colors, painted the flower, messed up the glaze on the handle... it reminds me of me. Beautiful just as I am. Imperfect. And lovely all the same.
"Strength is made perfect in weakness. Our infirmities create space for God's grace to work in our lives. To be humble is to live out that experience of limbo with peace and gratitude, trusting that God will take care of us."
Sometimes I tend to write things down, forget about them, and become surprised by them later on when I find them rooting through a purse pocket or between the pages of a book. For example, the little blurb above is something I sketched out quickly while spending Thanksgiving weekend at St. Benedict's Monastery in Snowmass, CO. It was something I did not want to forget, the fruit of generous reflection and prayer.
Gorgeous much?
I've been feeling gratefully weak recently. Ever since I was a kid, I've had the conviction that strength is important. I wanted to be, had to be, so strong for everyone. My friends, my family. I was a five-year-old-superwoman. And somewhere in the last few months, I've really realized that I don't have to be so strong. I'm allowed to mess up. My mistakes will not be the cause of the end of the world. And I've been thinking a lot lately about how our culture really gears us towards perfectionism and how I've absolutely found myself in a tangle over it sometimes.
It amazes me how many inner voices seem to chime in at any given moment: "Take care of everyone!" "Do more!" "Wear this!" "Don't wear that!" "Go to grad school!" "Make it look easy!" "Don't let anyone see that you're scared!" "Everything should be effortless, and if it's not then you aren't working hard enough!"...
Even more amazing is that lately, I find my automatic response to this is simple:
"NO. Enough."
No. I'm done. I've had enough. I AM ENOUGH!!!!
And I'm sure that I am not a solitary human in this experience --goodness gracious, our world is starving for love. There's a quote by Brene Brown... “I believe that owning our worthiness is the act of acknowledging that we are sacred.” Oh hell yeah! That's it! What I've finally begun to understand is that there is no possible way to truly be open to possibility, to love, to joy unless I am vulnerable and completely accepting of myself. Owning my worthiness. Owning everything In moments of grief and anger, and of peace and contentment. I may never be perfect, but this is what makes me real and there is such beauty in that.
This being said, I've been practicing imperfection. And I love it. If I slip up, I just allow it to be. I practice putting my mask on the table. I practice loving myself instead of creating excuses or vowing to do better next time. This is me! And because of this, I've done very Hannah things! --I've picked up the ukelele in order to practice messing up. YES! To practice accepting mistakes with grace. I've conquered a few songs here or there, and still look forward to incorporating more strumming patterns (What?! I didn't learn them accurately on the first try?! What kind of Ukelele player AM I?) And this is a process, nothing happens overnight. Where would the fun be if it did? Not in my uke strings, I tell you... Nope, not there.
You may have noticed that Katie, Amy, and I wrote a collective blog post on the themes that we chose for framing our lives in this next year. I wrote that I would simply continue to live out this life of grace. And this is truly my deepest hope. I'm tired of trying to be perfect. I'm done with that silly dance, with feeling like a porcelain doll sitting on the shelf, missing out so that nothing breaks.
I'm so relieved to find myself actively releasing that phase of my life and continuing on the journey ahead. I ask you, what would the world look like if we were all a little easier on ourselves? What goodness would that release bring for you? What goodness would you be delighted to find in yourself and in others and in this wide and wonderful world?
Alright, alright... I know. I'm a woman of many questions. And so I will pester you with these questions no more for right now, but I will leave on a note just to say that I'm beginning to see that letting go is not as scary as it seems. And if you decide to do the same I'll be here for you, alongside you in the fight.
And, I know that we can do it.
Much Love,
Hannah