Here’s the thing.
In nature everything looks so imperfect and unscaled, but the formation is so beautiful. -Bhavesh Chhatbar
Perfection has ruled my life.
We all struggle with so many things, that is what this life is; struggle. This struggle is a beautiful thing. With struggle…comes set-backs…which bring forth new beginnings…and lead to new growth.
I’ve let this struggle with perfectionism stop me from progressing through this cycle in certain areas of my life. In fact, perfectionism has made it difficult for me to grasp my full potential in all the things that I do; especially writing. I remember, almost two years ago, how dedicated I was to writing.
Writing my blog.
Writing my novel.
I started reading blog posts from other successful bloggers and writers. How, writing was a dead-end, because only the “elite” and the “1%”, who have talent, make great writers. That writing was a set of rules, you had to know, and I mean know, grammar, read daily, write daily, and publish creations–not to mention, you had to have been doing it since you were a wee little one.
It’s almost as if you had to write as well as we all claim to know ourselves.
But here’s another thing:
So many of us don’t know ourselves, and even if we do know ourselves…there’s still so much of ourselves we will learn as life goes on!
Yet these words that I read, still affected me. For the longest time I would sit down to write. It would go well for about 10-15 minutes. Then, I’d have a thought: “Where is this novel going.” If I couldn’t have my idea all thought up in my head to the perfect comma and period, I’d bury the feeling to write away. Until it came back.
When it came back, frustration built inside my body; I’d be angry. Angry for not writing; angry for writing; angry for still trying.
Almost everyday, it was like a bad case of writers block.
No. It was a bad case of perfectionism, which spilled into all aspects of my life, like the splayed fingers of freed ink. I had no idea how tremendous an effect this little hiccup had in my life, but 2016 was a year that cleansed this hiccup; body, mind, and soul.
I could either learn to adapt and keep my life in my hands, or let life decide what to do with me.
2016 has been a year of intuitive decisions. There were moments my intuition decided before I even knew I was deciding, throwing me off a cliff before I knew there was a cliff.
Life served me some hard-ass groundlessness this year.
Life also served me some hard-ass lessons, and bad-ass blessings. I don’t know about you, but I think I was given a year of challenging intuitive decisions, because I was starting to ignore, and forget, about my beautiful ability: intuition. So, as we bring in the new year I want to make some promises to myself:
- That I will do my best to listen to the intuitive sensations of my being.
- That I will do my best to know perfection only exists in the imperfections.
- That I will be, unapologetically, myself in this blog (and in all writing endeavors), my yoga practice, and my spiritual journey.
To remember, that being a writer isn’t about being the perfect writer. Just as being a yogi isn’t about being perfectly balanced, and spiritual. That being the best I can be isn’t about becoming perfectly me; but imperfectly me.
In so doing, I become closer to our sense of “perfection,” than I ever would be. I also want to promise you, that I will do my best to remain steadfast in my passion: To share. To share it all. The good, the bad, the ugly, the cracks, the flaws, the growth, and the depth.
I don’t blog about yoga and meditation because I want to be a spiritual wellness writer. I blog about those things, because they are big aspects of my life and I wish to share the knowledge I have with you all, in hopes that you will share your knowledge with me.
I don’t want to fall into a label as we fall into our inheritance. I want to fall into myself, like we fall in love with other souls; by pure accident.