Imperfectly Perfect. ~ Alicia Banister

Via on Oct 31, 2012

I don’t want your perfections.I want your humanness.

I tell people that, I think it’s a beautiful idea, really. To be human is to be imperfect. I want you to cry and feel weak and scared and hopeless (okay, I don’t really want you to, but if that’s where you are I want you to have permission to be there) and I want you to celebrate and be joyful and courageous and loving and giddy.

I don’t want everything to be okay. I don’t want you to hand me a neat little package when we talk, with a tag that says, “Here’s how I am, and I understand it all, so I’m just telling you what’s going on to keep you in the loop.” I want you to call up and say, “I have no idea what to do right now, and I don’t need you to fix it, but I need you to know I’m a little lost right now.”

I want you to be human.

Again, a beautiful idea. And a flawed idea (not surprising, really). Flawed because I’m sitting here asking you to be human, to show me your imperfections, to let me love your flaws—and I struggle to do that for myself. I want everyone to be human—except me.

Something tells me that’s not going to work out too well.

I am not necessarily a perfectionist. Anyone who has painted a room with me knows that. And yet, when it comes to myself, there’s so little wiggle room, so little space to be imperfect that I’m discovering I’m suffocating this being.

Here’s the clincher: I’m ashamed that I have shame around my flaws.

How’s that for a bind? I am embarrassed that I get trapped in ego-spinning.

There is a need in me to present something to the world that is palatable. That sounds harsh, I know, but let me explain.

I am afraid to bring my flaws into the world. I am afraid to be something that needs to be understood or tolerated. I am afraid of what I see as flaws. I am afraid that there are things that I don’t see as flaws, but others do. All of this because I am afraid to be qualitatively valued based on my imperfections, and that value directly correlates to my worthiness.

So, I learn to perfect. I learn to box. I intellectualize my emotional state and share it with the world (or at least with close friends) when I have clarity enough to allow for articulation in a way that’s safe and concise and from a bit of a distance. I report. I’m the one handing out the neatly wrapped up boxes containing bits of myself that I’ve deemed acceptable. I have to have it all figured out before I can share it with you, so just give me a minute over here.

And I need to tell you, dear reader, this is exhausting. It’s exhausting and lonely. It’s lonely because keeping my imperfections to myself means that I’m not really seen. Or at least it feels that way because I don’t present a wholeness to the world. I present this amalgam of boxes.

Straighten-ing. My yoga teacher says that a lot—straighten-ing. Moving in the direction you want to go in, but you’re not quite there. So, I’m learning how to hang out in the “ing” time; the space where exactly how I am is enough. Good enough, strong enough, soft enough, open enough, disciplined enough. I know there’s more and I’m moving in that direction, but I’m not going to wait until I’m there to bring all of myself out into the world.  If that’s what I’ve been asking of you all this time, I guess it’s about time I ask that of myself.

 

Alicia Banister swims in the sea of bodyworkers in Boulder, CO. as a CranioSacral and Massage Therapist. She is not very good at sleeping late or cutting in a straight line. But, she is really good at regularly feeding her dog, being in the woods, cooking, laughing loudly and often, and making mistakes. She regularly marvels at the human body and the breadth of its inherent healing capacity, as well as the fantastic beings that inhabit those bodies. She makes it a practice to let life humble her as often as possible. And to remember to have a sense of humor about it all. You can find her ramblings at reflectionsmassage.wordpress.com and www.reflectionsintegrativetherapy.com

~ Editor: Elysha Anderson

Like “I’m not spiritual, I just practice being a good person” on Facebook

About elephant journal

elephant journal is dedicated to "bringing together those working (and playing) to create enlightened society." We're about anything that helps us to live a good life that's also good for others, and our planet. >>> Founded as a print magazine in 2002, we went national in 2005 and then (because mainstream magazine distribution is wildly inefficient from an eco-responsible point of view) transitioned online in 2009. >>> elephant's been named to 30 top new media lists, and was voted #1 in the US on twitter's Shorty Awards for #green content...two years running. >>> Get involved: > Subscribe to our free Best of the Week e-newsletter. > Follow us on Twitter Fan us on Facebook. > Write: send article or query. > Advertise. > Pay for what you read, help indie journalism survive and thrive—and get your name/business/fave non-profit on every page of elephantjournal.com. Questions? info elephantjournal com

715 views

Appreciate this article? Support indie media!

(We use super-secure PayPal - but don't worry - you don't need an account with PayPal.)

4 Responses to “Imperfectly Perfect. ~ Alicia Banister”

  1. j nicole says:

    ahhhhhh stop it ..

    all we want is for the people around us to be human and not perfect

    we want them to be imperfect so we can feel comfortable in their company .. so we can laugh freely .. so we can see who they really are .. all of them .. we want .. just them.. all in all.

    we want to just be with them .. and hug who they really are ..

    Be raw! ok! get out there and start speaking .. and stop .. thinking .. about what needs to be said and just fuckin say something .. and go from there!

  2. timful says:

    What is the "perfect" car? A Toyota Camry? A Ferrari is lousy in the snow and won't fit many groceries. You cannot be what makes you beautiful without your flaws. It does not exist. We are each one of us one of a kind, like stars exploding from the big bang, to fill up space in all directions.

  3. [...] our lives, we all face hardship and discomfort—and we all make mistakes. What makes us individually different is how we choose to respond to those [...]

Leave a Reply