Happy Imperfect Holiday

Pain got me into my doctor recently. To be honest I was also having difficulty with balance on my left leg. After various tests, my doctor prescribed physical therapy.

My first appointment with the physical therapist was evaluative in nature. As she was scrolling on her computer, she said, “It says here your spine has become degenerative.”

“Hhuph,” I replied.

“I hate that word,” she stopped looking at the screen to make her point. “We spend most of our lives degenerating. It’s why my hair is gray.”

We had a laugh and she let me know the use of the word didn’t help her, help her patients. It’s pessimistic rather than encouraging.

It does feel negative. Each year when I add a year to my age I understand why my Godmother, Yvonne O’Rourke, was adamant about NOT using the word “Old” in reference to a person.

So I’ve lost a half of an inch in my spine. How does it define me?

To a young person we might say, “Oh, my how you’ve grown!”. But, I hope to hell no one says to an older person “Oh, my I can’t believe how you’ve declined!”.

I’m not ignorant of society’s pressure in idealizing youth. Like it’s something that can be attained and captured. It’s like many other attributes of perfection, there’s no such thing. Perfection doesn’t exist.

I remember well the day our pediatrician told my daughter she was done growing. The doctor didn’t word it in a positive way like, “Wow, Elizabeth, you have attained your ultimate growth, congratulations.”

Elizabeth only heard she was finished. Done. She cried. (I think that’s why I remember that day so well) I hope I reassured her there were many, many other ways to look at the finality of her height. Failure not one of them.

I know I didn’t say, “Yup, it’s only a decline from here on out.”

But it is, isn’t it? If we use a standard to go by, we are all under-the-bar in some way. Yet I think it’s the use of “terms” and how we tend to describe the changes we go through from a child to death that’s the problem. 

Those choices in language point a finger at us and we feel we are in some way at fault. When there’s not a person living who doesn’t age every day. 

I believe imperfection needs to be a non-ruler. It would allow us to stay away from judging ourselves and others. I think we could be happier. It might give us some room and time to look inside where the important growth takes place. Past the wrinkle-lines, shrinking posture and years we have been alive. 

“Wow, being you is so imperfect! My compliments to you.”

I went to see the movie, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, yesterday. I cried at the scenes where Mr. Rogers sees into the soul of each person. He doesn’t judge or blame anyone. He is compassionate and understanding of each imperfection, even in himself.

There are standards of perfection everywhere. We can resist the pressure to conform to something nonexistent. I’d much rather look inside people I come into contact with.  And I’d like them to see me using a non-ruler.

I try to laugh at perfection when I get the chance.  Sure, I’ve lost some height, have some arthritis, my hair is more and more gray and my teeth are less and less white. I’m in a state of decay. 

There is a positive side, especially if imperfection is used as the non-ruler. You’d take the time to look inside. Where the real me has lived for a very long time. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qGgzhJesKeI  (Mr. Rogers)

I’m happier if I don’t stand up against the wall of society’s judgment-ruler.  I prefer my non-ruler of measurement. 

We are who we are. After that’s established we can get on to more important things to use our energy for.

Happy Imperfect Holiday to all.