Far From Perfect

not perfect

One of the hardest lessons for me to learn is to say to myself and then to admit to others that I can’t do something I think another person expects of me.  Or, that I can’t do it well or that I dislike doing it so much that I procrastinate almost to the point of panic.
I am not perfect.
I cannot do it all.

Of course I know that about myself.
I am my own harshest critic.
Seeing all to well and remembering all too clearly…
The mistakes I have made.
The times my words or actions have hurt another.
The times my silence or my inaction have hurt another.
The lesson I need to learn and to relearn and then to learn all over again about giving myself permission not to be perfect has something to do with learning to let go and to recognizing and understanding my own particular limits.  Learning to allow myself to be who I am with my own particular strengths and weaknesses and not who others think I am or expect me to be.

And, this has something to do with the word grace that I have found myself using quite a bit recently.  As in “being aware of those moments when grace brushes up against your life.”  Grace, I think, has something to do with those moments when we understand something more about who we really are.  And, when we live with a deepening gratitude and honest appreciation of who we really are.

I long for grace to brush up against my life.
Maybe we all do.