I recently read an article on the NYT about perfectionism. It states the usual that most of us hear that reaching for the top is often a good thing. However, when the need to be perfect escalates to our home, work, personal and mental lives as well as our mental health it can be a risk rather than an asset.
So I remembered that in my late-teens I came across a card wih the title “I wouldn’t try to be so Perfect.” It piqued my interest so I looked closer and underneath the title was a subtitle: Written by a man who learned he was dying. I’m one of those people who buys cards without having an occasion because one never knows when there will be a need for a card. This one, though, I just had to buy because of its simple, yet truthful message. I am sharing it here with you (after having kept the card for over 10 years). It’s a reminder that living to be the greatest individual we can be rewarding but it is also good to learn from our “close or not-so-close successes” and continue to grow. This may also be a reminder to “live in the moment” and enjoy even the smaller things. I hope you get something out of it like I know I have…
I Wouldn’t Try to Be
SO PERFECT
WRITTEN
BY A MAN WHO LEARNED
HE WAS DYING
If I had my life to live over again,
I’d try to make more mistakes next time.
I wouldn’t try to be so perfect.
I would relax more. I’d be sillier than I’ve been
on this trip. In fact, I know very few things
that I would take so seriously. I’d be crazier.
I’d be less hygienic. I’d take more chances.
I’d climb more mountains. I’d watch more sunsets.
I’d go more places I’ve never seen. I’d eat
more ice cream and fewer beans. I’d have more
actual troubles and fewer imaginary ones.
You see, I was one of those people who lived sensibly
and sanely hour after hour and day after day.
Oh, I’ve had my moments, and if I had to do
all over again, I’d have more of those moments.
In case you didn’t know it, that’s the stuff life
is made of — only moments. Don’t miss the now.
I’ve been one of those people who never went
anywhere without a thermometre, a hot water bottle,
a gargle, a raincoat, and a parachute. If I had to do
all over again, I’d travel lighter next time.
If I had to do all over again, I’d start barefoot earlier
in the spring and stay that way until later in the fall.
I’d ride more merry-go-rounds, I’d watch more sunrises,
and I’d play with more children.
If I had it to do over again…
