If you know me in real life, you know I’m someone who likes to push boundaries. I’ve always been this way. Some speculate it stems from the instability of my early childhood – and maybe that’s true – but the reason doesn’t really matter anymore.
That’s why people who know me were surprised when I started talking about offering a product with “imperfect” in the name. I get it – when you push for greatness, people usually don’t see the original, very imperfect versions of what you create.
Sometimes strangers will hear the name and think I’m simply celebrating imperfection. Maybe I am, somewhat. But here’s the thing: I believe perfection is an illusion – it’s just a perception, maybe even a preference. What’s perfect to me might be awful for someone else. What I consider perfect often has blemishes if you look closely, and that’s precisely why I adore it. And often, what looks perfect… isn’t, if you know where and how to look.
Some things are more beautiful because of their imperfections. Think about a child’s smile with missing teeth – adorable, right? Or the twinkle in a grandparent’s eye as they tell embarrassing family stories – are they any less beautiful with their wrinkles and age spots? No. Consider Kintsugi, the Japanese art where broken pottery is mended with gold. Before breaking, it might just be a bowl, but after it’s fixed… it’s art.
More importantly, everything I do well today… I started doing poorly. If I had demanded perfection from the start, I would never have gotten anywhere.
This is something we understand as kids but forget as adults. I’ve taught swimming to both children and adults, and the difference is striking. Put a pool full of 7-year-olds to work on one specific thing, and they’ll do it 100 times, enjoying every minute. Over six months, their stroke improves dramatically. But adults? They want to go from floating to perfect strokes in 30 minutes. I spend 25 minutes convincing them that improvement happens one step at a time, not all at once. Then they swim 25 yards and get frustrated when they haven’t mastered it yet.
My daughter calls it my superpower: I embrace not knowing things. When I want to learn something new, I find someone teaching it and announce my beginner status. “I don’t know how to do this, but I’d like to learn – how can I start?”
Here’s the thing:
Imperfection is a starting point.
This matters especially in adulting because things are always changing. When things stop changing… we’re dead. Thriving in a rapidly changing environment requires a few things, in my opinion:
- Embracing imperfection as a starting point
- Accepting that we can only begin where we are
- Understanding that life is like a multiple-choice test – you can only choose from the options you actually have
- Recognizing that the journey from where we are to where we want to be requires work – a series of imperfect actions
I remember when a friend built her dream house. Walking through it the first time, I was amazed by the beautiful light blonde wood floors. When I complimented them, she said, “I wish I hadn’t seen them being installed because all I see are the imperfections.” I was stunned – to me, they looked perfect.
When I started my own home renovations, I wondered if I’d feel the same way. Turns out, I don’t. I know the imperfections are there – they always are – but I don’t fixate on them. Instead, I love them. I see them as stepping stones of improvement. You can’t build a house or even a floor without some mistakes and imperfections, so embracing them as a source of strength instead of weakness is how I move forward.