perfection: enemy of the good

A few years ago I went through something personally and it changed me, and not in a good way.  I became more afraid, less willing to take risks, more aware of “danger”.  It changed me in good ways as well but those are harder to see (aren’t they always?)  I’ve been slowly trying to reclaim those fearless parts of the person I was.  Jumping in without testing the water more often.  Because I miss that part of me.  The part of me that just tried something in case it worked, and then didn’t care when it didn’t.

And sometimes, oftentimes, things do work out.  Sometimes not planning is freeing.  Sometimes not looking for the perfect helps you find the good.  And the good is often good enough.  Perfect isn’t always attainable and in my quest for it sometimes I miss out on the good that I have.

So we played in the leaves and took pictures not at the wide open park I wanted to find, but on the median between some commercial buildings and a street.  And the sun wasn’t shining like I hoped for, instead it was the brief grey moment between rain showers.  But we had fun, we had a blast.  And I got some precious pictures of my little boy.

It was good.



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