Imperfectly Perfect

It’s not perfect
It’s not good enough 
So I’m not good enough 

I need to get it right
Or it’s wrong 
So I’m wrong 

I have to nail it
Or it falls apart 
So I fall apart 

What if the truth is

Nothing is really perfect,
It’s just done
Nothing is really wrong, 
It’s just different
Nothing really falls apart, 
It’s just changed

And IT’s not Me. 

If I’m proving my worth
My perfection, 
There’s no room for better,
Or for my real human potential, 
If I’m hedging my bets
Against any uncertainty 
When I’m anchored in fear 
Of imperfection.

That verse was imperfect. 
Not even good. 

Enough is ok
Being wrong is normal 
Falling apart is re-creation 

It’s all just a work in progress… 
A big boundless opportunity, and so am I, 
And that’s the way it’s all supposed to be. 

I can choose to show up
In less judgment and more me.
Aiming for better, not perfect. 

What is perfect anyway? 
Only one definition?
There are many versions I can see now. 

The world needs more imperfect,
And less glossy bullshit.

Be you
And be experimenting
To be Better You: 
Ever better,
Always imperfectly perfect
Art and craft in progress.

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