Living In The Imperfect In-Between
When I was wee little, another kid smacked my hands because I couldn’t colour inside the lines. I still don’t like colouring. Never have. It actually makes me antsy and grouchy.
In elementary school, I was the kid who stayed in at recess, to erase and rewrite my sloppy cursive, and to finish that last, stubborn arithmetic question that eluded me. I was left alone in a classroom to pick away at it. I’m still self-conscious about my penmanship and I’m still nervous about math.
As a teenager, I learned to bake, and I dearly loved it. I never did get the hang of decorating, though. I still love diving into recipes that span over multiple days, and I still love making treats for special occasions. It’s been a lifelong passion and comfort for me. But I also still apologize for my creations that are delicious, but really, really ugly.
I’ll admit, in the first two cases, I gave up. I never pushed myself to keep up with them because I was so hung up on only doing “okay”. If I wasn’t going to do things perfectly, what was the point? For the record, I still bake delectable train wrecks because, well, sweets are sweets.
It’s also important to note that the path I chose in my adult life, as a philosopher and a writer, was one that was never going to lead to perfection. Both pursuits are lousy with grey areas, without definitive answers or even milestones of “doneness”. Philosophers and writers don’t get to be perfect, or even finish, and in a way, that kind of takes the pressure off. Both are still well worth doing, even if it means fumbling along and making all kinds of mistakes. I don’t have to be perfect in my day to day activities. It’s actually better when I’m not, as long as I’m still moving forward.
I wish that everyone could be granted this kind of relief from the big, heavy yoke of perfection. Seeing what we’re going through on a global basis at the moment, “all or nothing” seems like a deadly, but common mantra.
Nothing I do will stop climate change, so I just won’t bother.
Wearing a mask and vaccinating aren’t 100% effective, so I just won’t bother.
Voting for the person I want in office doesn’t fix things, so I just won’t bother.
My speaking out against hate doesn’t fix things, so I just won’t bother.
Atoning for past wrongs to marginalized groups won’t magically fix things for them here and now, so I just won’t bother.
I can’t instantly make the world accessible to those with disabilities and exceptionalities, so I just won’t bother.
The next generation of kids is going to inherit a mess no matter what we do, so I just won’t bother.
On one level, it’s fatigue, after more than 3 years of upheaval (much, much more than that for some segments of the population). We’re exhausted, and lonely, and frightened, and all of these things tend to sap one’s energy. “Perfect” makes us feel even more tired, even before we’ve tried.
It’s also a matter of reliance on instant gratification, which is common in the 21st century. Let’s be honest, we’re kind of used to things happening NOW, and when they don’t, we assume they aren’t going to happen. And no, it isn’t just “these kids today” who are guilty of this. “Perfect” doesn’t happen quickly, heck, imperfect doesn’t happen quickly either. Not an excuse.
If we dig a little deeper, there’s some sort of weird notion that we, as individuals, can’t keep positive things in motion. One person isn’t enough, and you or I or any single drop can’t fill the bucket. No one likes to feel small, and powerless, and insignificant. “Perfect” is beyond our reach, so why point out our shortcomings by even trying for it? There’s a great quote somewhere about sleeping in a room with one mosquito. Even if you are just one, even if you are the only one, you matter.
What frightens me right now is an awful, pervasive attitude that we aren’t worth the effort. As individuals and as a group, we’ve gotten it into our heads that we don’t deserve mental and physical health, a clean and sustainable planet, leaders who actually care about us, effective education, equal rights, or affordable and safe housing. Those with huge privilege, who have the means to at least get closer to perfect than the rest of us, keep reinforcing this because their version of perfect rests on things sucking for a lot of others. If the powers that be won’t let us get in the same galaxy as perfect, then why bother? Barf. I’m not about to be told that I don’t warrant a little effort. I’m not about to be told that anyone else doesn’t either.
This living in either/or, all/nothing, perfect/imperfect is killing us, in some cases, quite literally. It’s torching the world we live in. In most cases, it’s making us feel helpless, and chronically, unpleasantly surprised when we find things getting worse. It’s encouraging inertia, apathy, and unnecessary distance between us. Things were never going to be perfect. They are never going to be perfect. If perfection is the only benchmark that will motivate us to save our planet and save ourselves, then we’re sunk.
What if, instead of filling our proverbial vision boards with all manner of perfection, and losing all patience with anything less, we focused on “better”, “something”, “moving forward”, “trying”? What if we accepted that in solving huge problems, there will be backslides, mistakes, and re-dos? What if it were okay to see progress as an ongoing thing (maybe even never-ending)? What if, dare I say it, we just kept trying?
Here's a little lesson from our friends the existentialists, who also lived in an imperfect world. With every choice we make as individuals, every decision, every action, we’re not only doing stuff, we’re setting examples. We’re making statements about what humans ought to be like, and what it means to have the freedom to think and act. It doesn’t matter if no one sees. It doesn’t matter if we have to switch things up as the universe switches things up. It really doesn’t matter if things aren’t perfect. It only matters that we don’t get stuck, and we don’t pretend that our inaction and our disinterest aren’t still choices in and of themselves.
When you get up in the morning, resolve to make a statement. It can be a whisper instead of a scream. It can take five minutes instead of a whole day. Promise yourself that you’re going to spend some time in between doing nothing and doing everything. Contrary to anything you’ve been told, or anything you’ve felt, the in-between is so important, and so are you.