The biggest lesson I’ve learned is that perfection is not a thing. Perfection is an idea–a completely subjective and personal one. For me, the only real perfection in the Universe is God…and love. (But then, I believe one encompasses the other.)
In terms of the physical, humanistic idea of perfection, I don’t really believe in that. I have goals, of course. I want my body to be leaner and more toned. I want to be healthy all the time. I want to be successful in my career, and I have a particular idea of what I want my romantic life to be. But even after all of these goals are attained, I don’t think I would look at my life and think of it as perfect. The notion of perfection implies that things cannot get any better–that some aspect of life is “as good as it will ever get”–as if Life is somehow limited and the goal is to reach this mythical winner’s circle. I don’t think that’s the kind of world we live in. And to be honest, I have no interest in being perfect–who needs that kind of pressure? Cause once everything is “perfect,” you’re tasked with keeping it that way…forever. Talk about exhausting. No thanks.
Thing is, I’m still figuring it all out as I go, and I’m good with that. So I guess, that’s the lesson. Don’t worry about being perfect–just keep going and you’ll figure it out.
I don’t believe in perfection in that way–as something for me to be. Perfection is found in moments.
It’s a feeling, elusive and sometimes fleeting.
There are those moments in my life, when I allow myself to stop analyzing everything and just feel–to feel love or joy or passion or inspiration. Those moments when my spirit takes over and my mind takes a backseat. Like when I laugh so hard that my stomach hurts or dance with reckless abandon, when the breeze is just right or when I hear a piece of music that moves my soul. When I am free of all the crap that my mind tells me I’m not and I. just. am. That’s my kind of perfect.
– Khalilah Joi. Actress. Perfection.