Perfection is Possible

I have been convinced of a truth: Perfection is possible. I know it exists and can be reached, because I just experienced it. I am now more certain of its power, its potential to grab a hold of my heart, even if for a moment, and take me for an unforgettable ride. With this experience, I was transported to the muse’s doorstep and given a taste of the sweet sensations she brings. Before anything can get in the way of this feeling, I must declare it mine. Just as I do with my own life, I am holding it dear to me, embracing it with eyes wide shut and heart wide open. I am thankful, because I know it cannot stay. This moment will pass in exchange for another. It’ll call me, then evade me and I’ll chase it and find it again in some other form, but for now, it’s here…caressing, inspiring and causing feelings in me that I can’t explain. Does this make any sense to you? If the answer is no, then my answer is, GOOD. Mysterious ways…perfection works.

How did I arrive at this final destination? It happened without attempt, without logic or strategy, and had no clear direction- just as love is, as life is– but once I was aware of what I could do to steer perfection my way, the intention was all there. I didn’t seek it out, didn’t pursue it and like the sun rises and sets, it made its appearance. When the journey to this treasured spot began, I was unsure of how or what the experience would be. If I’d allowed my thoughts to take the stage, I would’ve hindered perfection’s debut. So I let go of all thought and chose not to speak. I closed my eyes and envisioned a deep, dark, gentle space within me and took my thoughts there. And left them there. I went with the flow. I let all worries walk out on me. I breathed in and then out, continuing this pace as needed and soon felt myself relaxing. When I felt the potential for thoughts to take the forefront, I pushed back and closed the red curtain on them. This was my stage.

In the beginning, there was a little uncertainty, some restraint, even friction at times. As is every new experience, every new meeting of the minds, of the hearts. But I had faith. And trust. And most of all, desire. I allowed the experience to unfold on its own, giving it the space, time and energy it required of me. I inched forward, then held back, leaped across and over, then surrendered again, not pushing or forcing anything. Cause and effect, baby. I trusted myself and all that was out of my control. Eventually, the pathway that called to me opened up for me and as I journeyed forward, I felt a rush of happiness, peace, and total calm. But the journey wasn’t over yet. I worked hard and was diligent in my efforts, strategic and patient for an outcome that would result in my ultimate favor. Then…it happened. I had arrived, reached success, reconciled my ideal of perfection to one of reality and was left in a state of pure gratitude. Perfection had surprised me, completely conquered my mind and body by simply proving her existence. I was in awe of her power and felt harmony and unity and peace and love. I was speechless. Tears replaced potential words.

What moments of perfection have gone down in the history of your heart? When all is right, smooth sailing, flowing, smiling down on you; when you feel impenetrable, subject to no limits, seemingly (or literally) floating above ground, and you can’t contain yourself, these feelings are what we aspire to achieve every day in life. Perfection is possible and a reachable state of mind, although not a permanent possibility considering the daily distractions that swallow up our mind’s potential power, but it is there, waiting for us to dedicate the time, resources, energy, and belief that it can be experienced. Give yourself the chance to discover and set foot on utopia. Repeatedly. It’s an incomprehensible and convivial place to be. Even if for just one moment.

Tweet    

4 Responses so far. Add Your Own.

Leave Your Own Comment.

Off-topic or inappropriate comments will be edited or deleted. Email addresses will never be published. Thanks.

Name (required) Email (required) Website  Submit Comment