It occurs to me as I continue to look at my life as objectively as possible that I often hold myself to unreasonable standards of perfection. As much as meditation has softened me to situations and other people, I continue to take an unforgiving approach to my own thoughts, experiences, and even my own body.
The following is a pact I have made with myself to practice imperfection, to embrace the things about my real life I often try to strong-arm into compliance, and to be gentler with my own damn self. Please feel free to add your thoughts or to create your own pact:
- I will no longer, at a distance of a quarter-inch from my bathroom mirror, try to rid my skin of every last blackhead, flake of dry skin, and stray hair that may or may not exist
- I will not try to “make good time” everywhere I go
- I will not maniacally remove an otherwise fine manicure because of a microscopic chip nor will I discard articles of clothing because of pulls, small holes, and other minute imperfections; rather I will wear both with pride
- I will not scuttle after every Darwin-colored tumbleweed of cat hair that rolls across our matching hardwood floors
- When I step on a piece of cat food, people food, cat litter, or other unidentified object, I will not obsessively retrace my steps with a dust buster
- I will not try to anticipate every food, beverage, and entertainment need of my significant other, cats, or houseguests; rather I will place the onus on them to “use their words”
- I will (try very hard to) not obsess over the size, shape, and texture of various parts of my body
- I will not chase with a lint roller anyone who sits on our cat-adored couch
- I will not insist on finding a 10th way in which I will practice imperfection
