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Try as we may, we will never reach the level of perfection we hope to achieve. We can try our best and come pretty damn close, but the act of being perfect does not exist. Our lives will never be the flawless picture we have painted in our minds. Our canvas is smeared and slightly tainted, but it’s a work of art, just the same.

Hemingway, Dickinson, and other well known writers, gained our admiration, by putting their own imperfections on display. They inspired us to be at peace with our fears, by helping us to understand one another. Their words soothe the broken hearted, by enforcing light into the broken pieces of the heart. They share their loneliness with the world, making it a less lonely place.

Thank God for imperfections; for they inspire compassion and encourage kindness. They mold us into better human beings, making life more satisfying and one worth living for.

Passionately imperfect,

Penelope



 

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