The Great Imperfect Mystery

“True freedom is being without anxiety about imperfection.” 

Zen master Seng-Tsan

Sometimes when Joe and I are outdoors clearing the fir trees out of the apple orchard, I can start to get carried away. I think that if I could just clean up another patch of forest, another wee area, it would be so much better—more perfect. And it does for a moment look better, but then nature (which is another way to say the twin forces of growth and decay) have their way with my ideas of a put-together garden property. It is all so messy and in process. 

For decades, the bears come in autumn and pull apple tree branches down to get to the biggest, juiciest apples. The trees are misshapen and wild from this, wearing their age with grace and blessing both me and the bears (and the foxes, birds, & deer) with shade in the summer and sweetness of fruit in the fall.

We too are subject to the forces of growth and decay. It is easy to get caught up in some idea of perfection—what we think we or the world should be like. Instead let's bow to the great imperfect mystery that is life unfolding all around and through us.