I do not get easily perturbed. When I do the feeling stays with me for as long as it wants to. No amount of trying can get it out of my system. I was discussing this with a friend of mine and how I wished I could overcome it. Her response was something I had not expected. “Probably this is who you are. Stop fighting it. Stop trying to be perfect in that department”, she said.
There hides a perfectionist in each one us. Everyone is trying to be “perfect”. A perfect student, a perfect friend, a perfect parent, the list is endless. In this preoccupation of being perfect, most of us stop enjoying the moment, we stop accepting things as they are and want everything to follow a strict rule of measurement dictated by someone else’s idea of how things should be.
I am currently reading a book that talks about pregnancy and child rearing. One of the sections talks about how few parents are obsessed with their child achieving milestones in record time. They fret if the child is teething is delayed by a few weeks or if the child speaks two sentences instead of four. If the child is healthy and the doctor does not raise an alarm, the child would grow up with speaking, writing and reading ability.
Another thing that I was reminded of while reading the book was how much the way we view childhood is defined has changed. When I was a child, I would go to school, come back, play with friends , do my homework and sleep. On weekends my father became my playmate. I did go to music and dance classes when I was 11 but left only weeks after as I did not enjoy this.
Things in a child’s life have significantly changed now. A child as young as six years old attends karate classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, goes to story-telling sessions n Thursday ( I thought telling stories was a primary job of parents and grandparents), plays piano on Friday and Saturday and on Sunday it’s his time to go do swimming/ basketball/ badminton. It is as if the parents are trying to fulfil their own dreams through their child and want to start as early as possible. But what does the child want? All that the child probably wants is to do his own thing. It could be as simple as looking at a bird and clapping. With the child’s day as packed as the parents, childhood becomes a series of activities and deadlines.
Perfect bodies come close to perfect children. The myth of the perfect body is fuelled by the advertising and media industry. There are set guidelines for perfect teeth, neck, legs, arms, etc. You are not beautiful if you have not achieved those impossible standards. There is no place for being average. Due to a series of major and very often complicated surgeries, my body exhibits outwardly signs that are considered “imperfect” in the world we live. I have a slight limp and my body is scarred as a result of the surgical interventions. I grew up believing that everyone walks the way I do and even if I may not see, everyone has a few scars here and there. It was only later that I began to notice the pity in a few eyes, or unsolicited advice to visit a particular doctor who will cure me of my limp. My limp, my scars, my slightly chipped tooth and my greying hair are all me. If they are me, how can I not accept them and enjoy being who I am. I’m average, I’m good enough and I’m happy being who I am.
Some people are professional at a few things: music/ dance/ games. There are another variety who do things because they enjoy the whole process. They may not be the best, my even be just about average but the happiness it gives them is unparalleled. I refuse to read a book with a dictionary by my side. It spoils the fun for me. I love water and can swim a bit but no, I do not aim to be able to do 20 laps of the pool. Happiness for me lies in being near or in water.
. Perfection is utopia and if we run after that all we’d be left with is frustration and unfulfilled desires. It is ok to not be perfect and just enjoy the moment. Let’s enjoy the imperfections that life has to offer and live it to the fullest.
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