The Art of Turning a Blind Eye

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DIY...

I have been painting the Grand Hall of my house, which incidentally is 1m2. My other half says it looks much better than before. I think the paint now highlights all the imperfections in the walls and the old radiator, the cracked door frame and scuffed skirting board. These imperfections invisible prior to my contribution, now really annoy me.

Meanwhile, my other half is tiling in the West Wing, aka the bathroom. I think it looks fabulous, so much better than before. Yet all he can see is the gap between the centre tile is 2mm narrower than the tile above it. Had he not pointed this out, I would never have noticed. This imperfection really annoys him.

In both cases it's not perfect, but better than it was before and in actual fact - it is fine, it does the job more than adequately.

And yet it niggles... 

We want perfection

Have you ever been in a yoga class, peaked at the others, then felt rubbish at your own attempt of the pose? Or worse still: you're in a pose, you feel amazing and have an image in your head of how you look only to catch a glimpse in the mirror?  (And feel the urge to complain that the mirror isn't working properly.) Why do we do this to ourselves? Surely we should rejoice in what we are doing?

We want perfection. It's not enough that our fingers touch the floor in our forward fold. We want the palms flat to the floor. Not satisfied at that achievement, we want our torso flush against the legs and so it goes on... We want it all and NOW.

Sometimes, though, we have to accept that our bodies just won't compress into the shape we think they should make. It might be tight hamstrings which will need time, or it could be the flesh and muscles are in the way. No amount of flexibility is going to be able to squidge that away.

Accepting imperfections

Of course we want to progress and see results from our efforts. If we don't get the results we expect, we become disappointed and feel inadequate.

But the reality is, this is our body and it's unique. Finding a way to accept the quirks and imperfections and work with them, rather than striving for perfection is a smarter option. It's not always easy to reframe the lil' shouty voice in our heads, but we can help ourselves. Often by getting out of our own heads and back to the present moment.

And guess what helps with that?

Yoga. (But you knew the answer to that question.) 

Now I need to figure out how to turn a blind eye to the gaping hole I made in the ceiling.

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