86/100 in 100 creative challenge, 8/25/09
Golden Fluid Acrylic on paper, 8x5 moleskine
Oh lovely, lovely epiphanies. When the light seems to glow with a warmer touch and the moment is the perfect moment. A time to stop and say, "Yes, this is life and it is good."
And then the moment fades. You go on. You stumble a little. The dancing has worn you out so you snap and yell. Someone says a little something that makes you doubt yourself. Your back hurts. Bedtime is drawn out. The food is less than stellar. The phone doesn't ring when you want it to or it rings when you don't. You sit up wasting your time when you could be doing something productive or at least sleeping.
Oh, life moves on after epiphany.
And what I've decided is that is okay.
We're not here to be perfect or to have perfect days or perfect lives or be the perfect mom or the perfect blogger or the perfect artist or the perfect partner or the perfect anything. Perfection is the antithesis of living.
Imperfection is vital and messy and what we learn from, and what makes the beauty more breathtaking.
So if I woke up this morning to a ladybug on my bedside table, and an epiphany about moving and music and breakthroughs and I knew in the doing of it that this was a great day, but the day slowly slid into pissiness and mama's short temper, then I'm going to say, hey, that was a complex day. A complete day. A full spectrum of a day. And when I fell asleep at night, I'm not going to obsess over where I fell down that day, but remember the lady bug, and the moments, the yeses and the nos. The life. My life.
Here's a youtube video called Moments that was brought to my attention by Jena. I swear I'd been planning this post long before she posted this video. Hm. Some more synchronicity.