Imperfect and Okay

by Chris Koellhoffer, IHM    January 14, 2024

Because we’re human and limited, some element of imperfection or incompleteness may be found in whatever our hands and hearts attend. The typo scanned by multiple sets of eyes that jumps out at us only after we’ve finally hit “Send.” The letter sealed and mailed without the enclosure we intended to include. The shot missed at a critical juncture in a basketball game, no matter how many times we’ve practiced.  

At the foot of my bed is a folded quilt, a compilation of dreams, of beauty, and of human error. My childhood is filled with the memory of my thrifty grandmother saving scraps of fabric from threadbare blouses and many-times-mended-skirts to create parasol quilts, each square displaying a woman with a parasol, its scraps of fabric matching the colorful pieces of her billowing dress.

Those parasol ladies planted in me a long-held desire to one day craft my own quilt, so  I enrolled in a class for beginners. While every other student followed precisely the template and colors of a baby’s quilt, I was seduced by my search in a fabric store. Rows of batik, the delicate watercolors of Indonesian artistry, lured me over to their shelves. Once I saw those intricate designs of waxing and dyeing, those swirls of emerald and teal and rose and raspberry, there was no going back to ordinary.

In my sewing and piecing together, I was so dazzled by the batik fabric that I sometimes lost focus and veered away from the prescribed quilting pattern. As we neared the end of the classes, the instructor gently pointed out where I had gone astray but I decided to leave things as they were and keep the quilt for myself. I’d like to imagine that I was unconsciously following the spiritual practice of those who deliberately include a flaw in their artistry, a nod to the imperfection of all that is humanly made. But let’s be honest, the errors were unintended and all mine. I wore them like a badge of honor. As someone who had always tried to do things perfectly, I discovered in this quilt a newfound compassion for my own humanity, a knowing that I was part a world at once both beautiful and broken.

Since then, I have given away countless works of my hands and heart: Phlox and Black-eyed Susan cultivated and carried to a friend wounded by life’s cruelty. Italian Lemon Pound Cake feeding co-workers during a meeting break. Cherished words spilled out into poems and essays and reflections like this blog post you’re reading right now. Each of them created with care and thoughtfulness, each of them a container for my hopes, my whimsy, and sometimes my human error. My constant youthful striving for perfection as an end goal has given way at last to a world in which I offer the best of which I’m capable, move on, and am at peace with that reality.

In “The Liberating Lessons of Imperfection,” Sheryl Chard is not asking us to cease trying our best. But she proposes that our seeming mistakes and our carefully thought out plans gone awry can be schools of profound learning. She wonders, “What if all of us could remember to ask ourselves: When was I searching for the ‘perfect’ (fill in the blank here) and instead was surprised and delighted by something completely different? When were my imperfections met with compassion, and how was I shaped by that generosity?”

Going into a new year she asks, “What if this year I could walk through my days appreciating all the imperfections that actually bring me joy, tell a story, teach something, invite my contribution, or add surprising beauty?”

What if, indeed? A few weeks into this fresh and young new year, may we move forward with trust in the Holy One who always accompanies and completes us. May we learn to look at what is askew, awry, lopsided, ludicrous, or unexpected in our plans with an unfailing humor that carries us through this year and far, far beyond.

Takeaway
Sit in stillness with the Holy One.
Name any scars, bruises, fractures, or pain that your body has experienced.
 Reflect on a learning that has come to you through limitation or diminishment.
Ask the Holy One to bring to fullness and completion the dreams of all who struggle in our beautiful yet broken world.

Featured Image:   Chris Koellhoffer, My First Quilt

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