Tag: life lessons

Perfectly Imperfect

Ain’t technology great? We can do so much with it. We can peer deep into space – all the way back to our universe’s beginning, in fact. You can see things so small that it’s hard to believe they exist. We can play Candy Crush, watch crazy cat videos and create believable AI pictures ‘til our hearts content for free!

(Wait… that last sentence sounds a lot like… me. Let’s move on.)

Seriously – the tech in our pockets and all around us is really incredible. It allows for so much good. And… and. It can really hold us back.

Worshipping… What?

One of the drawbacks of social media culture is the productization of ourselves. We set up stories – mostly through images and posts – that we want to people to ‘buy’ with their attention and, if we really think about, their approval.

We make decisions on vacations that focus on posts that will sway others to think of us a certain way rather than exploring what we are truly curious about and experiencing with our travel mates. We pose. We construct. Very little is actually what is going on but rather the story we want to tell not to ourselves but to others.

It leads us all closer and closer to the idea that the shot must be perfect, that the words must be perfect that we… must be perfect.

Y’all, that’s not us. And while some will argue that has been one among us who reached perfection in the human condition, the odds are really, really not great that you and I will get there.  

But yet, rather than worshiping Yaweh or Buddha or God or something larger and greater than ourselves, our collective behavior and choices scream that we are very close to worshipping… perfection in ourselves. And that, in the words of David Foster Wallace, will tear us up.

(Parents, it’s an incredible read and something I talk about – though not in so many words – around the campfire with our campers.)

Perfectly Imperfect

Just as important, the chase for personal perfection holds us back.

Here’s a list of statements we often say to ourselves in those quiet moment: “I’ll be happy when…”, “I’ll be worthy when…”, “I’ll be accepted when….”

Let me help you finish those. In this modern society, young (and not so young) people often complete the above statements with ‘I’m perfect’ or ‘it’s perfect.’

The ironic thing? Those who really are happy or feel worthy or are accepted aren’t even thinking about themselves. Instead, they accept their imperfections with grace and humor and humility. They think of others more than they think of themselves. The contribute to the greater good of their family, their classroom, their team, troop… or bunk.

As Shannon Alder has said, “There is no perfection, only beautiful versions of brokenness.” The pursuit of perfect is a great way to beat yourself up and stop you from actually flourishing and growing.

You want the good news about your imperfection? Everyone else is imperfect, too. And even better, your imperfections will line up perfectly with a lot of people. As C.S. Lewis has said,

Friendship … is born at the moment when one man says to another “What! You too? I thought that no one but myself . . ..

You are perfectly imperfect. Rather than hiding these little foibles or eccentricities, recognize them, accept them and start contributing to the lives of those around you. You’ll get plenty of ‘likes’ that way. More than you can possibly imagine.

Have a great weekend, kiddos.

PS – How would I love you to answer those ‘when’ statements above? ‘…I decide to be so.’

Beauty in the Cracks

Spring has certainly sprung here at the winter office in Georgia. (Our friends at Augusta will be very happy – right on cue for their little party next week.)

The azaleas are blooming. Our dogwoods have announced their presence and the redbuds are singing. It’s the latter flowering tree that has me thinking today about beauty in the cracks.

We have two, big redbud trees in our backyard, planted before we got here in 2005. The top of one of the trees broke nearly off in the winter. I looked at it for weeks, thinking of way to safely remove the large, hanging branch, too high for me to reach with a ladder or climbing.

I got busy and forgot about it. Until last week. As the plants began to pop their Spring colors, I looked up and noticed something incredible:

That big branch that was barely hanging on had flowered up just as beautifully as the rest of the tree.

Kintsugi

There is a tradition of art in Japan called ‘kintsugi.’ It describes a process of rebuilding a broken bowl, cup or pot using gold, silver or some other precious metal to bind the pieces back together. In doing so, the function returns and the vessel itself is even more beautiful than before.

Its beauty comes from the cracks. Broken things can still flower.

There was a push in the ‘90s and early ‘00s to raise children to think they are perfect. As a society, we were so concerned about our young people’s self-esteem, how they held themselves. Turns out, this well-meaning approach to parenting led to those who had a hard time dealing with the cracks which life created in them.

Full disclosure – you aren’t perfect. (Goodness knows I’m not either.) You are going to make a lot of mistakes over the course of your life. All will leave a mark – some more than others. Sometimes, you’ll get nicked. Sometimes, you may feel broken. But….

Beauty comes from the cracks. Broken things can still flower. As long as you have something else. Read on.

Binding with Beauty

I vividly remember the days of braces, acne and my fumbling attempts at relationships. It’s a tough combination that comes seemingly at the worst possible time: late middle school and early high school. The combo and timing just about floored me.

Yet, I had a life-line in Mike Selleck. Mike was our youth leader growing up. From 7th grade onward, he showed our group that it didn’t matter what we looked like, the grades we made, the failures (or successes) on the sports fields or recital halls or budding relationships.

We were loved and accepted, completely and unconditionally. And we enjoyed this incredible mix of fun and actual thinking that he and his team orchestrated every Sunday evening for years.

From this incredible combination, we flowered. We thrived. We had a refuge, a place where we could go each week to get re-filled in the best possible way.

He provided that which we all need – acceptance and love, fun and growth – to give us the space and tools needed to bind up our nicks and our fears and our broken pieces.

Many of us remain connected. I had lunch with Mike a month ago. Certainly, a lot has changed in the group of 23 of us from graduation until now. But all remember the beautiful binding that Mike helped create in us.

Beauty comes from the cracks. Broken things can still flower.

Beauty at Camp

Am I waxing poetic? Maybe… yeah. With Passover and Easter, both of the ‘worlds’ in which I live are experiencing a meaningful week. It’s got me in the mood.

Kiddos – you are going to make mistakes. A lot of them. At home, after school, at camp. All the places. So will your friends. So will your parents. So will I.

What matters is what we learn, how we bind ourselves up and how we move forward.

The good news? You can have help in all three of those next steps. In fact, I would argue that having the help is what creates he beauty.

At Weequahic this summer, the camp counselors can’t wait to help, to demonstrate it themselves and support you (and each other.) We are going to provide a space that is crazy fun and, at the right times, thoughtful and meaningful. And, you are going to have a lot of support at as you move forward.

You are going to do great. I know it. How? Because I know…

Beauty comes from the cracks. Broken things can still flower.