I have wasted years of my life and a lot of energy trying to get rid of the mess. To perfect imperfections. To fix the frayed and tattered ends of my life that never seemed to resolve. And I’m finally giving up.
Only recently have I learned how pointless the pursuit of perfection is. Since the birth of my son, I’ve realized something: All these seemingly ordinary moments, the less-than-remarkable times and things, are all we have.
Learning to let go and be present to where we are helps us pay attention to what we never noticed before. And as we choose to see with new eyes, we learn to be grateful.
A screaming baby in the middle of the night becomes a reminder that life is a gift. A messy kitchen, a sign of a healthy family. An over-crowded schedule, a challenge to slow down.
What happens when we do this? We start to see the world differently. We become thankful for the things we used to resent. We celebrate the ordinary.