Where perfection cannot reach
Perfection(ism) has a lot of weight in it. Is it really about wanting to shine in excellence, or more about avoiding our imperfections from being seen? I’ve been thinking about this.
Each time we ‘hit our record’ with a yoga pose, we often move the goal further again. After the peak, it’s usually time to set a new goal. That way we don’t have to spend too much time in the now. The ego enjoys the gold medal - but only for a moment before it needs something else again. While accomplishments can make us feel more worthy, and that’s why we keep chasing them, from the inside they can leave us feeling dissatisfied because our real worth was never there.
Working toward something meaningful and staying resilient when it would be easier to give up is, to me, part of yoga. The path isn’t perfect - the way we’d like to see it - for any of us. We can choose to see the ‘obstacles’ as personal failures, proof that we are not enough or that life is not giving us what it should. This is a sure path to suffering. Or we can see them, at least after a while, as teachings that help us move forward with more wisdom.
As the saying goes: you can become wounded or wise. Maybe becoming wise first requires being wounded - I mean sitting with the thoughts and emotions of not being enough, perfect or whatever rises. The wisdom from the experience can create more understanding, depth and empathy and those are some great tools for life.
Wanting everything to be just right can show up anywhere in life, like keeping postponing something important until conditions seem ideal. That can be about trying to hide what feels imperfect to us and can’t see the daylight yet. Maybe ever won’t. Yet someone else is already doing it, maybe with less knowledge but with more courage. This isn’t about comparison or about rushing, just something to reflect - about not letting our light stay hidden for too long because of thinking there’s something imperfect in it.
Perfection doesn’t reach where real life happens. Tying to hide the sides of us that feel flawed might momentarily give a sense of control and make us look our best - at least through our own filter. But showing also these parts of us can release the weight that we’re carrying, of this absurd concept of being perfect. The only accurate definition to me would be being the most authentic self.
