I have always liked imperfect things. One of the ways my high school art teacher taught us to create abstract art is to draw something you see, and then just take certain elements of the thing and stretch them, elongate them, mess ‘em up somehow in your drawing. It’s deconstruction, which we are having to do in so many ways in our lives all the time. We have to destroy and take apart our lives the way they are to get to the next thing and make a better version of what was. I think this kind of abstract art is more interesting than an exact rendering of something. I like things that are imperfect: people, haircuts, shoes, music, art projects and trucks. They’re just more interesting.

I am thankful to do what I do because I get to be around people who are imperfect. I’d much rather talk to a person who is imperfect and willing to share that than someone who is convinced or trying to convince me they are put together and perfect. But then I also understand those people who are trying to appear perfect are just compensating for things they don’t like about themselves and in that way, they are also imperfect. 🙂 Then I think about myself, and how much I am going around trying to convince other people of how perfect I am, and then I really face palm. I’ll admit it: I like things that are imperfect, but I don’t like my own imperfection. I try to hide it and not let other people see it and my greatest fear is that all my imperfections will be exposed.

I so admire those people who aren’t scared of their flaws. They’re fine having their imperfections out there for people to see. For many of us, I think imperfection is one thing that agitates us the most and puts us in a bad mood – our own flaws and imperfections and the flaws and imperfections around us. I think that might be part of what’s going on around us now – people are distraught, confused, agitated and driven nuts by the imperfection in our world. Illness is a big part of that. We’re terrified of anything – a germ, disease or contaminant that might get in there, ruin things and make things “not okay,” not perfect. (Of course, these germs are around all the time. We’re just not always so aware of them as we are now. Wash your hands, everybody!)

We are terrified of the darker side of life, but then we are also fascinated by it. I mean, like everybody has watched Tiger King, right? Perhaps we are fascinated because, just as in self-sabotage, we are interested in how we reconcile these things and incorporate them into a whole existence. That includes all flaws, all the things we are terrified to look at, all the germs, diseases and darkness, even the darkest things none of us wants to look at.

I have been known to tell people the best way to be loved is really with and in your flaws – the things you hate about yourself and believe make you unlovable. My wife puts up with me, and although it doesn’t sound like it, that’s really the best thing I could say about the way she loves me. I would love to tell you she loves me because of all the great things about me I think she should love (which I guess she does appreciate), but she also loves me for all the things I hate about myself and she probably finds despicable, too, if she’s honest. Trust me, that’s the best way you wanna be loved. It’s who you are.