waiting for perfect

lately I’ve begun to feel that
I’m not pushing myself hard enough.
I mastered something,
and I stuck with it,
rather than challenging myself
to learn something new.

lately I’m starting to feel that
I’m too young to stop
challenging myself.

I’m on my fourth donut tonight.
This is after getting back from a baby birthday party
where I ate an almost healthy cupcake
and a few cookies,
which I guess is not so bad now that I see it written down.
Except the four donuts.
The four donuts are bad.

I won’t eat another one after this one.

It doesn’t really matter;
I’m still breastfeeding,
and the weight just disappears.
Hundreds of donuts later,
I’m still only 120 lbs.

I’ve got a perfect body
’cause my eyelashes catch my sweat,
yes they do,
they doooooo.

I feel like I’m having a quarter-life crisis.
I want to move in a million different directions.
I guess that’s the downside of feeling so free.

I’m looking for something to make me feel grounded,
stable and at home and content.

When I was thinking about moving Max out of his daycare,
and then decided against it,
another parent said to me,
“It’s never going to be perfect.”

We pick our battles,
we accept that not everyone will agree with us,
we admit that sometimes we’re wrong.

And even if your way is the right way,
even if the right way exists,
you can be a perfectionist all you want,
but you still live in a world with other people
who may or may not be striving for perfection
and may or may not be achieving it.

That’s the biggest trouble with my old way of thinking —
it assumed we all lived in this perfect world
where everything always went according to plan.

When the Coalition closed down,
it was like the earth had been pulled from beneath me.
But I think we need disasters
to move us to do what we’re meant to do.

For me at the time, it meant going back to school,
and as hard as that was for me,
and as much as I often felt like I didn’t belong there,
it was the best thing I could’ve done,
and some things in life are just tunnels —
you’ve got to get through them to get to where you really want to be.

I’ve read this David Brooks article a hundred times.

I can relate to that
electrifying kind of love
that, for me, came with the birth of my child.

Sweet, smart, hilarious, musical Max —
the youngest person to ever make fun of my laugh.

IMG_8596There’s something so exciting about childhood —
knowing that the world is your oyster and
believing that you can do whatever you want to do.
A clean slate.

I feel like my life has been a series of clean slates and disasters.

But people on the road to inner light do not find their vocations by asking, what do I want from life? They ask, what is life asking of me? How can I match my intrinsic talent with one of the world’s deep needs?

My most traumatic experiences
have moved me to create change,
to get involved with organizations
that are working towards a better world.
But I’m starting to think that
maybe there’s more that I’m supposed to do.

I also think
I can’t keep running away;
I need to accept that I’m in a good place,
and it’s never going to be perfect.

Sometimes I think that’s my problem with romance, too.
I’m surrounded by people who care deeply about me,
and I care about them, too,
but I can’t make myself fall in love.

I keep waiting for perfect.


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