Perfectly imperfect

Lately I've felt very much like a careening two year-old.

There's a reason they're called toddlers. If you've seen children walk, they stumble into and over nearly everything in their paths.

Serious growth can do that. Send you tottering around the living room, bumping into the coffee table on the way to getting it together.

Or not getting it together as the case may be.

People have praised my honesty about challenges, and learning from life's obstacles.

But really I'm no different than anyone else, except perhaps for coming clean about it.

Growth isn't pretty, but it's real. It's part of who we are. By accepting that about ourselves, we can accept it in the people we care about too.

I have several healthy houseplants and not one is pretty. Over the years they've suffered war wounds from moving, the wrong lighting or watering, followed by sudden growth spurts.

They are all thriving right now and each is a little off in its own way.

Humans are the same. You can't always see the baggage we're carrying around, but it's there. It's in how we interact with each other, and how we love or brace against love.

Come on everyone! If this is true...if we're all just trying to get our sea legs...if we all need the same light and tenderness to grow...can we just give it to ourselves and each other already?

I'll go first.

I'm perfectly imperfect. I have my share of bumps and bruises, missteps and misfires, I-really-meant-to's and I-wish-that-went-better's.

Because of those, I understand myself better, and am living a full and fulfilling life.

By seeing my bumps and bruises, I get to appreciate how far I've been able to carry myself on my own two feet. And appreciate how many people have been there to pick me up, and send me toddling on my way.

So this season, love the people around you and love yourself for all of your imperfections. They are what make you perfect.

And perfectly lovable.

Happy Holidays!