Found in my email:
“ There would be no music if high C were the only note,
no art if spectrum red were the only color,
no joy in pleasure if pleasure were the only feeling — and paradoxically,
there would be no perfection without imperfection.”
Point 1: There would be lots of music with only one note. Ask any Native Australian didgeridoo musician.
Point 2: With only red there is still pink, white and noir; there is texture; there is sculpture and architecture and language is the greatest of all the arts.
Point 3: There is only one feeling; that is Love. Some say that there is another feeling called Fear. I say that Fear is Empty, the total absence of feeling. But what do I know?
Point 4: There is perfection.
There has always been perfection; it is called Love. But since we are imperfect beings we shall never really know Love in this lifetime except in little snatches as we practice the behavior of Loving, which is doing for others what they cannot do for themselves, and assisting them in acquiring the knowledge and skills to do just that, expecting nothing in return. In this case we are not actually loving; we are being loved and that small, loving moment is what makes life worth the experience.
The author also had this to say:
“What does this mean to me? Well, first it means that I don’t have to be perfect. All I have to do is grow at a pace natural to me –
and that is all I have a right to expect of others.”
Sounds right to me, Anonymous. Thank you. Funny thing about this post is that by pointing out the imperfection of those four perfectionist points, I, like the author I am quoting; I am making my own attempt at being perfect in order to overcome perfection. Wow, Perfect, absolutely Perfect.