The Empty Hands Of Perfection

The Empty Hands Of Perfection

The Empty Hands Of Perfection


There are so many masks we learn to wear over time, but none of them is so corrupting as the one of perfection.

We are in a desperate search for the perfect love, perfect partner, perfect car, house, job even for those perfect moments we choose to display so everyone knows how perfect our life is.

We become script writers, producers of the perfect glimpses of our own reality.

A joke said than when asked where the host of a show was, his assistant said he was rehearsing the spontaneous lines up to perfection.

So is our life, rehearsed over and over up to the point where it looks so natural that we don’t realise where does the glitch lay.

I thought so much to what does perfection look like for me. It was funny to discover that along this quest I, as many of us do, was so focused on the flaws, either keen on fixing them, or determined to cover them up by repurposing them.

And in the end nothing had to do with the much dreamed perfection, but with the endless spiral of being fundamentally flawed.

We see everywhere talking about authentic self so much it has lost its true purpose. Sadly that became somehow the rebranded perfection of the last century.

Perfection has been, and still is, an unattainable standard because so very few recognise perfection and are able to point to the one known perfect ion that there has ever existed, and that, is solely the attribute of Creation.

No one ever emphasized the fact that Creation is ever changing, and in its dynamics perfection becomes everything, complex, in a moving shape or form, and it is not the result of a series of actions, but action itself.

I’m going to be clear on this one: perfection is not the result, but the very existence at any given point in time and space.

You are perfection at its best reading this, as I am writing it, and so is the electrical impulse in our brain, or the heart beat.

So how come we are perfection and never ever seem to find it? How come we miss all the moments in our lives, all the potential, all the people, how come we end up by missing ourselves?

The bad news is that, apart from all the “external” influence with programming and genetic baggage, we are ok with whatever is happening to us. Then we choose to believe this is life, this is us, so there is so little we can do to change it.

The good news is that on this planet there is free will so whatever is will, it goes and if you choose to, you can actually choose to be alive, you can actually choose yourself over all the fake imposed or self-imposed realities.

The greater news is that you can be perfection at any given time if you choose to be that. You can also see how authenticity might burst out from than, not trying even for a second to be one way or another.

So how perfect are you? Is that scarry to think about?

Is your perfection leaving you empty handed, taking away every possibility, bounding you to ever chasing hollow dreams? Or is your perfection the catalyst for achieving the impossible, the unimaginable, the most ecstatic complexity and depths of yourself?

I know I went from feeling completely flawed and wrong, to a much brighter state of ever changing, shape shifting, bringing out wonders and beauty and the best gift I have received so far is completeness, peace, and desire to play, to touch, to be, cause being is not motionless.

Being is expansion, is experiencing, is reconfiguration, is death coupled with birth, is just perfection playing with itself.

Just sink into your rythm and just be anything and everything!

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