If we lived in an ideal world, the word perfection would not have the same meaning it has right now in our reality. If an ideal world could ever exist its flawlessness would seem perfectly normal to us. We would not even recognize it or think of it as precious. Instead we would consider it a given, a prerequisite for life. 

We give a word meaning, including the word perfection. In our society,  it is often set equal to beauty. Perfect, flawless, ideal is beautiful. Everything else is not.
I dont think it’s that easy. I think that nothing in life and nothing in this world is ever completely good or bad, never entirely beautiful or ugly. There is beauty in chaos and imperfection, because beautiful doesn’t always mean polished, unbroken and clean. Beautiful means authentic, honest and pure, brave, new and mysterious, messy, spontaneous and in the moment. Beautiful means perfectly imperfect.


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