not perfect

I was thinking today how much I’ve held myself back by striving to be perfect. And what an illusion “perfection” is, anyway.

I mean, what is it? Is there such a thing? Even if you were to take a “perfect” anything—banana, water molecule, note—it’s only perfect in comparison to other versions of the same thing.

So, why do I expect there to be perfection in writing? Why do I look for it in movies, stories, songs, and moments?

My book is coming out, and I’m writing more and more (as usual) and I’m thinking about what other people are going to say about it.

I’m thinking about critics and grammar. And how I can beat something to death by pointing out all the things that are wrong about it.

But I don’t think it’s our purpose to kill things. I think it’s our purpose to create.

And while I’m sure I’ll always have a healthy sense of editing or discernment or judgment or whatever—I do want things to make sense to the best of my ability, and grammar helps that—I’m going to try more to loosen up and not hold so tightly on getting things exactly perfect.

Because there are standards … and then there is the point where editing is fear.

There’s asking everyone’s opinion because the input is valuable and helps me see things I can’t … and there is learning to trust myself. (Over and over and over again, reminding myself and re-learning and learning yet again to myself.)

Sometimes I make these posts and then later see a typo or something that isn’t clear. But these push out to Tumblr where I can’t fix them (easily).

I found a missing period in my new book. If it gets fixed, cool. If not, I guess whoever sees the one sentence without a period at the end has evidence of my fallibility.

I’m not sure if that is the right word, but I’m leaving it. Because imperfection. Because I think I’m getting the point across, even in an imperfect way, and I’m feeling it and hopefully expressing it. And maybe that’s enough.

As I write this in a hotel room while my kid watches The Simpsons wayyyy too loud while kicking the bed.

It’s not perfect. But I like it anyway.