Tag: imperfection

Flaws and All

This picture is a fourth in a series I’ve done drawing micro expressions of epiphanies (you can see the others on my Instagram page). The character (actor Kim Hee-sun) plays a grim reaper who learns the value of unacknowledged service…you’ll just have to watch the series, its called “Tomorrow”. Anyway, if I got it right, the epiphany is in her eyes…..I liked this story for many reasons, one important being that one continues to evolve even after death…

I had written something else entirely for this post, but as it often does, something else came up, that I felt it was important to address, so I’ll save the other piece (which is kind of related) for next time. So, let me preface my remarks with a statement that I have repeated over and over throughout my journey here: We. Are. All. Fallible. At. All. Times. There is never a moment, as long as we are breathing, that we aren’t flawed or make mistakes. It’s what happens after the mistakes are made or when we recognize a flaw that matters, and when it comes to living on a higher plane that awareness makes all the difference in the world. It’s natural to not always be aware of mistakes we’ve made or flaws we have based on our limited perspective, simple ignorance, or because we simply choose not to. That is when I, personally, rely on those I trust and love to help make me aware of those failings, or challenge me when I don’t face them. Living on a higher plane isn’t about perfection or being saintly, but how we choose to evolve. I also know that no one likes to be confronted about their failings or flaws, which is why it is of utmost importance to have people you love and trust around you, (you know the whole “taming” thing) because there will always be those who, for a multitude of reasons, may claim to have your back, but do not and they simply break you down and never build you up. Only time and behavior can decide which group those people fall into, because the truth of who they really are always, ALWAYS comes out. I have also found that there is a distinct difference in attitude between how “the world” regards flaws and how those who choose to live on a higher plane should regard them. The world in many ways, demands that we don’t have any flaws at all, if we are to be acceptable in society’s eyes, at least publicly anyway. Flaws and imperfections should be hidden behind the kind of acceptable subterfuge that society demands which results in a fake persona, one that can’t allow the beauty of one’s blueprint, to be truly celebrated, because that blueprint has it’s own built in imperfections. It becomes difficult, then, to not only evolve to our blueprint’s best possibility, but limits our ability to bear good fruit that will help each other along the way..

I’ve heard plenty of people say that “I can fix or address my flaws in my own private way, or on my own”…And while I’m certainly not advocating that anyone hang out their dirty laundry publicly, I do think that to keep flaws or mistakes wholly personal is a bit dishonest. It’s dishonest because you still leave everyone “out there” in your wake probably convinced that you walk around without any visible flaws at all, and that attitude doesn’t encourage anyone else to recognize or show theirs either. If we truly embrace the idea that we are all connected and are all in this together regarding the future of humanity, then we had better act accordingly and that means regularly acknowledging we suck at certain things, accepting that we all have weaknesses, and have wronged each other at times and make mistakes at times. I like this phrase in response to my own fallibility: I’m sorry and I promise to do better, it’s simple and uncomplicated. How often do we admit mistakes and apologize? Jesus says seven times seventy, which in my book means pretty much all the time. I would also like to say, (because I am so guilty of this, I blame being born Irish and Catholic) we have to stop punishing ourselves because we are flawed and aren’t perfect… because NONE of us are, and I actually find comfort in that. I think that is why I find such beauty in dishevelment, regardless of how innately beautiful you are…when you have the courage to simply just be your own self first and foremost, your true beauty shines and then we can all begin to see each other differently.

Faith in Dishevelment

It is interesting to me what has come to mind just standing still…much of it is just the active clutter in my head by which I often am able to draw a singular thread of interest and beauty out of the colossal magnitude of stuff that floats around in there. The singular thread I was able to extract at the moment was this: I do not have faith in those who are “perfect” in the eyes of the world, shrouded with layers of shellac that are shoved in our faces every day. Nor do I trust the growing trend of “cool” dishevelment, a look that says, “I’m chill and relaxed” but still costs a fortune and hours to prepare. In my mind that kind of fakery is almost worse. I’m not condemning trying to put your best foot forward or celebrating one’s own inherent beauty whatever your personal style dictates…go for it, with joy, there are many of those I send my love to who do just that. I absolutely love fashion and all kinds of performance and have many beautiful friends. If I’m honest, though, what I have the most faith in and what I find most beautiful are the moments I catch of otherwise beautiful blueprints in a state of dishevelment. Let me be clear, I am not saying I relish when someone is at their weakest or ugliest, I always send a quick prayer of love their way, or that I only have faith in the unattractive moments of people. What I truly am saying, is that from someone like me, who notices almost too much detail when I observe the world and I see beauty absolutely everywhere, it is in those moments, where life is moving you in the wind, however and whereever that may be and your first priority in the moment isn’t what you look like but whatever you are engaged in, that is when there is authenticity, purity and beauty that leaks out from underneath the usual masks people tend to put on, whether it is irritation or pain or sadness or a host of other emotions. In my job, where many if not all walk in our door at different levels of dishevelment, I’ve learned to appreciate the beauty that comes with vulnerability of physical pain, often accompanied by emotional pain too. In that dishevelment, I see an authenticity that I perhaps otherwise would not, and that is sacred to me, and also what makes our clinic a safe place. We are worthy of their trust, and it is also where my paintings and drawings are displayed because I want them to know they are worthy of my trust and seeing my soul too (and it helps me get ready for art show displays which for me are a bit discombobulating).

Living without filters usually means that I look disheveled most of the time. At this point I don’t mind because the process of life in my head commands most of my attention at the moment. Whether it is being all sweaty working out and still taking time to chat with people regardless of the gross level of sweat rolling down my face, dancing to a new favorite song while cooking in my kitchen like a pirate because of my bum hip, or the ugly cry that happens when I think about my bebe getting married at the end of this month and listening to the mother/son song I picked out, is where I believe my true beauty shines (an aside…guess where I found out they were going on their honeymoon? yep, my favorite place…an example of God’s great humor…AGAIN. I am truly happy for them though; I am over my possessiveness). I also discovered, while standing still, that in my present dishevelment, there is beauty in the shadows. I don’t need to be so embarrassed of my shadow side anymore, because it is as much a part of my blueprint as the more sparkly stuff I wear on the outside. And while the majority out there may not agree with my personal assessment about beauty and dishevelment, and may judge me for my own disheveled nature, it is no longer any of my concern. Go ahead, cloak yourselves however you need to, my journey won’t be affected here or otherwise, God will always have a better imagination than any individual, and I believe wholeheartedly the universal source of love has my back. So, for those in any measure of dishevelment…I see you and your true beauty.

The above picture is my studio, which I admit is a mess but a true depiction of the beauty in my mind, even if it is cluttered. After I took the picture, I realized that I had my first communion dress and veil hanging from my window…and it made me laugh.

Faith in Imperfection

Often times, for me anyway, revelation gives way to a feeling of heightened stress and awareness that my boundaries have shifted, and I am no longer comfortably contained. As uncomfortable as that awareness is, I’ve learned over the years to soldier through the discomfort as a natural component of evolution. Perhaps it is why my adrenals are shot, a result of being so constantly uncomfortable, whether it’s attributably a result of not appreciating limits or embracing fully the momentum of exciting movement and not wanting to stop. I guess to my credit I never think or worry about that part much. I have learned to trust, wholeheartedly, in this journey I’m on that wherever it takes me and never resting on my laurels is a necessary part of the process. A process which began, at least most clearly for me on that day in Colorado. It took me a minute to find the photo I took on top of the mountain…and here it is. Old photos don’t give it justice, but I can still see clearly its radiance in my head.

In all my adventures, I’ve learned to appreciate how the world’s imperfections can ultimately evolve into spectacular beauty. As an artist, I love the small imperfections that bring out the beauty in a face, the lopsided curve of a lip, the unusual lilt of an ear, an elongated neck, a scar or unusual eye etc (I have a bright yellow freckle in my left iris which sometimes makes the blue, look green). I’ve been working on pencil drawings of micro expressions on people’s faces that wouldn’t be possible with perfect symmetry, and I so often wish others would see these elements with the depth of beauty that I do. I can tell you this though, had I not evolved in the manner I have, I probably wouldn’t have been able to see them either. Let me tell you about the dream I had the other night that changed my discomfort with expanding my boundaries to complete comfort in not having the need for any at all (which does not mean anarchy by any shape of the imagination, just limitations) …also, if you’re uncomfortable with expletives, there are many, so apologies.

I was in a very crowded place, unfamiliar and with no one I recognized. As it happens in my dreams sometimes, I wasn’t wearing clothes. I wasn’t particularly uncomfortable, except for the notion that it’s not normal to be in a crowded area like I was with no clothes on. Of course, these strangers did notice, and their looks of scrutiny also made it clear that I was the only one sands dress. My response this time, however, was different. Usually, I just move ahead not worrying about it. This time, however, I returned the scrutiny after realizing how many layers and coverings everyone else had on, at least I was hiding nothing, and I suddenly knew that underneath all the subterfuge, they were just as naked and flawed too. I flipped off more than one person in the crowd thinking how stupid they looked and went to look for my car. By the time I got to the street where cars were parked, I was wearing jeans and a T-shirt with a butterfly on it. I couldn’t find my keys, and when I found my car (and it was a beauty), there was a woman in a black suit standing in front of it holding my keys in her outstretched arm with a very smug look on her face (no it wasn’t a shadow form of me, and although I didn’t recognize her I’ll bet I could point her out in a line up). What happened next, NEVER, happens in my dream state. I have never felt such rage in my life, and I stepped within inches of her face and screamed: “Give me back my mother-fucking keys you bitch! You have no idea who you are messing with”. I looked down at my t-shirt at the butterfly there, snatched my keys from her hands and continued to yell: “I’m a goddamned butterfly and though my wings are small, I will change the weather, hell I will move mountains so get out of my fucking way!” (usually, I am the epitome of appropriate, always trying to treat others how I wanted to be treated…which is all fine and good, but this version made me dance a little). Stunned she moved out of my way, and I got in my beautiful car, turned up the music and drove away. God’s honest truth? I thought the lessons of this summer had about broke me. Now? I see it was all worth it. Here’s why.

All my life, I have been compelled to learn, grow, evolve, bear fruit, and to always become a better version of myself. Whether it was due to heavenly guidance, or my own DNA, my small circle of those who have tamed me, or working through my own karma, I have been graced with amazing opportunities to do so. I use the word grace specifically, because it is because of my flawed nature that the gift of grace even has a place in my life to transform my flaws into something beautiful and unique. There is no room for grace in one who refuses to see their own imperfections. Most importantly, without a lifetime of experiences facing obstacles, challenges, and sometimes taking time away to transform in my own personal chrysalis, I never would have turned into the badass butterfly that I believe I am right now. It is in weakness and imperfection that we become strong, as Paul reminds us in 2 Corinthians 12:9:

A thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of Satan, to beat me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me, but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me.

So, my friends, I guess I would rather be naked, my flaws exposed than covered in layers of subterfuge that cloak imperfections keeping them from transforming into a bad ass butterfly. I guess it’s also one of the reasons I love art and artists so much, like a chrysalis, they transform flaws into something beautiful, where grace is sufficient, power is made perfect and can and will transform the world.