art Rassouli
Friend, from the very beginning, you were not broken. You were not born into sin. You were not destined for the garbage heap.
There was never anything fundamentally missing from your life. You just thought that there was. Others tried to convince you that you were not good enough, because they too felt not good enough. In your innocence, and with no evidence to the contrary, you believed them. So you spent all those years trying to fix, purify and perfect yourself. You sought power, wealth, fame and even spiritual enlightenment to prove your worth as a 'me'. You played the Build-A-Better-Me game, comparing yourself to other versions of 'me', and always feeling inferior or superior, and it all became so exhausting, trying to reach those unreachable goals, trying to live up to some image that you didn't even fully believe in anyway, and you longed for the deep rest of yourself…
But you were always perfect, you see, from the very beginning. Perfect in your absolute imperfection.
Your imperfections, your quirks, your seeming flaws, your weirdnesses, your unique and irreplaceable flavours, were what made you so loveable, so human, so real, so relatable. Even in your glorious imperfection, you were always a perfect expression of life, a beloved child of the universe, a complete work of art, unique in all the world and deserving of all the riches of life.
It was never about being a perfect 'me'. It was always about being perfectly Here, perfectly yourself, in all your divine strangeness.
"Forget your perfect offering", sings Leonard Cohen. "There is a crack in everything.
There was never anything fundamentally missing from your life. You just thought that there was. Others tried to convince you that you were not good enough, because they too felt not good enough. In your innocence, and with no evidence to the contrary, you believed them. So you spent all those years trying to fix, purify and perfect yourself. You sought power, wealth, fame and even spiritual enlightenment to prove your worth as a 'me'. You played the Build-A-Better-Me game, comparing yourself to other versions of 'me', and always feeling inferior or superior, and it all became so exhausting, trying to reach those unreachable goals, trying to live up to some image that you didn't even fully believe in anyway, and you longed for the deep rest of yourself…
But you were always perfect, you see, from the very beginning. Perfect in your absolute imperfection.
Your imperfections, your quirks, your seeming flaws, your weirdnesses, your unique and irreplaceable flavours, were what made you so loveable, so human, so real, so relatable. Even in your glorious imperfection, you were always a perfect expression of life, a beloved child of the universe, a complete work of art, unique in all the world and deserving of all the riches of life.
It was never about being a perfect 'me'. It was always about being perfectly Here, perfectly yourself, in all your divine strangeness.
"Forget your perfect offering", sings Leonard Cohen. "There is a crack in everything.
That's how the light gets in."
- Jeff Foster (From 'Falling In Love With Where You Are')
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