16/10/2022
I found joy in the flowers and things on my table that did everything but lay perfectly, remain unblemished, and hold out immune to decay, the deckle edges on handmade pages, the movement of bubbles, and formation of cracks leaving mesmerizing outcomes, the garden doing what it wants and when, in everything from the blooming to the bearing and not… to be reminded to appreciate as things are rather than how we believe they ought to be.
Like a mirror what I saw in all around me while broken, shattered, cracked, “imperfect”… was simple, complete and utter beauty. Perfect. Perfectly imperfect.
Aunty was always one to correct my trajectory when expressing myself with the narrative I feel so broken… almost scolding me, teaching me to see that even though they may be breaks, cracks and probably so brought mostly on by my own doing, decisions and choices that feeling beautiful could also be a choice, decision option. Cause there is always beauty. I think she’s one of those that see past that inner brokenness, imperfections and the like…clearly.
Somehow with the passage of time and experience today I’m one of those and now…
… Deliberate… Intentional…practice to go w the flow but not notice in self, in life, in the garden, with nature the non linearity, the decay, those breaks, cracks, these imperfections even as they become less and less noticeable… more refined in their blemish, there but barely…
I’m rambling