Beautiful Mistakes

This week's quote reads, "Anyone who always tries to do everything right might miss out on the most beautiful mistakes of their life."

As a recovering perfectionist, this quote hit hard. Back in the day, perfection was the goal and I would strive constantly to get there. But never quite did (of course). I have blogged about this before, here. These days, I have learned that "good enough" usually is just that - good enough. If I have made an (almost) invisible mistake in the latest crochet project, which doesn't make a difference to the overall look, I'll let it go.

The Japanese have a special term for imperfection in life: wabi-sabi. According to Wikipedia, "In traditional Japanese aesthetics, wabi-sabi centres on the acceptance of transience and imperfection. It is often described as the appreciation of beauty that is 'imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete'. It is prevalent in many forms of Japanese art." It goes on to say, "Wabi-sabi combines two interrelated concepts: wabi and sabi. According to the Stanford Encyclopaedia of Philosophy, wabi may be translated as 'subdued, austere beauty' and sabi as 'rustic patina'. ... Characteristic principles of wabi-sabi aesthetics and principles include asymmetry, roughness, simplicity, economy, austerity, modesty, intimacy, and the appreciation of natural objects and the forces of nature."

How can we apply this "acceptance of transience and imperfection" to our lives? Most of us find this a lot harder than the odd mistake in something we have created. And yet, change (which is another word for transience) is the only constant in our lives. No matter how hard we try to attain perfection, stasis, something will happen to knock us off balance. I think we somehow need to find the resilience to accept change and move on. 

I learned this lesson the hard way, through being a parent. As soon as my children were born, I strove to be the best parent I could possibly be, to give them the best childhood they could possibly have. And yet, I made every mistake in the book. I also constantly compared myself to other mothers, to my own detriment. Yet I finally learned the truth of the saying, "You can only give your children two things in life - roots to grow and wings to fly." I often found it the hardest thing in the world to stand back and let them go their own way, and learn from their experiences (and their mistakes). Knowing that, if I interfered, they wouldn't grow into their proper selves. Yet also knowing that if / when they did foul up, I would feel as guilty as hell for not intervening. In a way, it was the toughest test of my love for them - stepping back out of the centre of their lives and allowing them to become independent beings. I've been so lucky, that both (like me) have learned from their mistakes and  grown up into loving, caring, functional adults.

Perhaps loving well, and accepting (and learning from) our own imperfections, is the best any of us can do.