Sitting in my black chair with a wet dog shivering on a towel next to me, I’m ready to finish this day. I’ve got one more set of push ups to complete, then I’m done. It was haircut day for my stinky little dog, Grace, followed by a bath. She lays on her towel looking at me with disappointment and betrayal. She doesn’t like these days. I understand.
While I wasn’t manhandled by a giant holding a pair of scissors, who proceeded to indelicately chop fur in sensitive areas, the day was unexceptional. Nothing dire occurred today, but nothing grand happened either. It was just an imperfect day. It wasn’t rich and it wasn’t poor. Like most of the other ones.
I don’t really mind them. I prefer days with a little more shine, but a regular day isn’t too bad. Imperfect is ok by me. In fact, perfection is a unreasonable expectation for anything. I’ve certainly had perfect moments, when the world feels right and I wouldn’t wish myself anyplace other than where I am. But, these don’t happen every day. I look for them, though.
Perfection is an aspiration. So long as we understand this, it’s ok. It’s the expectation that kills us. We discard valuable ideas because they’re not quite complete; there’s a small chip in the paint, or a smudge on the glass, or a hair is out of place. Few things – ideas or people – are perfect all the way to their center.
Accepting this truth as true, we can build from “damn good”, instead of having to start from scratch every time. Life is a long-form rough draft with constant revision and editing. We think new thoughts and learn new words and improve. We create and erase and rewrite. And, this is good. It also takes the pressure off of the idea or ourselves. This is growth and it’s always imperfect and it never ends.
Finishing this commitment on a new morning, following an imperfect sleep, I begin again. Further ahead than when I started, I stare into the darkness and see a sliver of light between the clouds and mountains. In this space is potential. It’s the dream of a good day. Having a few days behind me gives me some perspective, but I still can’t predict with certainty any outcomes – for the sun or my day.
Not knowing is the fun part. This is the mystery. But, anticipating a good surprise increases the odds of one showing up. The contrary is true, too. I’m choosing the belief of a good, perfectly imperfect day living beyond the sunrise. I’m smiling as I write these words, and that’s always a good sign. My formerly sad, scared, angry little dog lays beside me in a show of love and forgiveness. Forgiveness for the previous day is a good sign, too.
Photo credit: Robin Malmanger
Dave Markwell is a life-long Des Moines liver and lover. Former owner of Waterland CrossFit and the Waterland Arcade, Dave uses his unique story-telling voice to help small businesses tell a better story, and his love for people to help folks live bigger and better lives. For more info, check out his website: wordsbydave.net
