The winter’s cold, but the snow still lightly settles on the trees
And a mess is still a moment I can seize until I know that
All will be well
~ The Gabe Dixon Band
We’ve had two picture perfect Alberta winter days in row – sunny and bright, crisp but happy. Blair told me that this winter is the cloudiest we’ve seen in decades…maybe that’s why the past couple of days have seemed especially lovely. The sun is the one thing that gets me through our frigid winter months. I picture God saying, “Well, you do have to wait to plant your garden until after the May long weekend, so I’ll give you sunshine to go with that -25C”. I’m grateful.
There are few things as pristine as fresh snow on the trees against a backdrop of cloudless blue. Yesterday Aaron led the way as we tromped through the ravine trails with Jackson – ecstatic little trailblazer with faithful canine companion on his heels, knee-deep soft white fluffy snow, sunlight glancing through the trees…this was Instagram material, people. And an idyllic filtered Instagram picture would have indeed seized the moment. But it would have been a filtered snapshot of the life I want you to think that I have every day. The life I want to think I have every day. The truth is that life is most often mundane – a fact that the sheer volume of pictures of food on Instagram bears witness to – and messy. Imperfect.
Jian Ghomeshi began his radio show Q on Thursday morning with an essay entitled “In Praise Of Imperfection”. Here are a couple of my favourite thoughts…
The quest for perfection pervades nearly every aspect of our lives; from the arrangement of our homes to family vacations to yes, the work of our popular entertainers…perfection is the shiny curiosity, perpetually out of reach on the horizon. Imperfection is the far more common condition and quite possibly the more attractive disposition. But we’re frightened of our flaws, aren’t we?…Perfection is laudable, but seldom real.
Perfection is the shiny curiosity. And a mess is still a moment I can seize. And all will be well.
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