Perfectly Imperfect
On the if-onlys we live with — and the quiet permission to be exactly the messy version we are.
Most of us run a long internal list of if I always did X, I’d be Y. The list is mostly fiction. The poem is about retiring it.
If I always practiced what I preach
I’d truly be a master
If I always did what was right
Maybe I’d learn faster
If I was able to always let go
I would be Buddha’s rival
If I were always on time
My name would be in the Bible
If I never acquiesced
I would have no friends
If I never forgave
We’d never make amends
There’s a balance in life
That we all must respect
I am me, and you are you
Perfectly imperfect
Perfection isn’t actually the goal. Balance is. The if-only person doesn’t exist; the actual person, with the actual flaws, is the only person who gets to live the life. Be that one.
— JTC