Like many other households, we’ve been avidly watching Olympic coverage. We admire the powerful athleticism, the focus, the strength in these well trained bodies and minds. Voltaire said that “Perfection is attained by slow degrees, it requires the hands of time.” While this is obviously true for athletics and many other skills, I believe that we experience perfectionism every day.
Last week as I was walking with my friend Margaret, we agreed that it was a perfect day. But we say this so often, no matter what the season, many days are perfect for walking.
On Valentine’s Day, my husband barbequed the steaks perfectly. The red wine was a perfect accompaniment, and the company, our family, that made it all around perfect.
How often we sigh, sip our coffee or tea and think, “That’s perfect.” And that bite of sweet after a nice dinner, or finding just the right colour to add to your rug, or the quiet of your home after a busy day at work, all perfect! The bloom of a rose, perfect today, and while it may look different tomorrow, still may be perfect.
In our day to day lives, there are no scores taken, no hundredths of a second counted. Perfectionism is subjective, it is personal, as individual as we are. Days vary, but in each of them, despite concerns, despite things that may not go well, I look for little bits of perfect. May you find perfects today too.