I’ll admit it and without an ounce of shame. I love imperfection. I’ll take a Leaning Tower of Pisa over a perfectly straight one any day.
This confession may annoy the perfectionists among us, but I just can’t help myself. It is what it is and I’m content with it.
Why? I have no idea.
Perhaps I’m a closet believer in the Japanese concept of wabi sabi. Nothing lasts. Nothing is finished. Nothing is perfect.
I doubt that, however, considering I just learned about wabi sabi by an accidental Google search.
The real reason I must accept imperfection is that I am so far from being perfect myself that I can just relate.
Imperfections, in our personal lives and in our workplaces, create interest. Whether they manifest themselves in the annoying co-worker down the hall or in your own less than linear thinking patterns on any given day, imperfections are all around us.
I often think of them as nothing more than life’s happy accidents. I hope I’m not the only one to feel this way.
Under the right circumstances, other than perfect ideas can encourage meaningful conversations that tend to dip below the superficial surface of all things. They can serve as springboards to new and improved ideas or even to positively brilliant ones.
In the people we know, imperfections are the hallmark of individuality and give everyone else something to talk about.
To truly appreciate the beauty of imperfection, however, we have to open to experiencing it in the first place.