Less Than Perfect

Most people would tell you that perfection doesn't exist...but it does. I've felt it.  I've felt it so deeply that I was left speechless, without the ability to think and quivering from the sheer realization that perfection does exist and I just had it.

Knowing that perfection does exist, knowing that I will never again search for it because I've had it, what matters for me now is less than perfection.  I want the fight, the passion, the vulnerability, the rawness, the mess that anything less than perfection requires.  Perfect is wrapped up neat, tidy, not messy, not a struggle.  Perfection is easy...simple...not complicated...it's purely perfect with no downside.

Having experienced perfection, I know what I want is the downside.  I want less than perfect.  I want messy, emotional, laughter, loyalty, vulnerability, friendship, passion...all the ups and downs that anything less than perfect requires.  

For ever, for always, I will have perfect memories.  I will smile when people say perfect doesn't exist because I know it does.  I will smell certain smells, hear certain sounds, see certain sights and know that perfect exists.

Last night as I walked away from the sunset, I looked back over my shoulder and saw perfection.  A beautiful, amazing and perfect picture.  I smiled.  A deep, from my soul, smile full of gratitude for having experienced this perfect sunset after a perfect day.  And I yearned for more...in the moment of perfection I yearned for me.  I yearned for less than perfect.  I yearned for something that doesn't always have to be tidy and neat and perfect.  I yearned for the ability to be messy and say everything in whatever way it comes out knowing that being less than perfect is okay.  I experienced perfection last night...and it was perfect.

I want more than and less than perfect.  I want to be left breathless with wonder.  I want to be curious about what comes next.  I want to have the unpredictability that less than perfect brings.  Raw humanity...tears, struggles...the stuff that passion is made of...that's what I want to experience.

I want to sit at a table with someone I just met and laugh until tears come. I want to be so anxious to know more that even after five hours of non stop talking, there' still way more to say and hear. I want to be surprised by the shared imperfections.  I want my less than perfect self being welcomed by another less than perfect self.  This is the stuff that less than perfect brings.

I have been blessed to have experienced perfection and it is perfect.  More perfect than my wildest imagination.

I want more than and less than perfect.