A revelation came to me the other day. My sister and I were talking about what the subject was in their Sunday School class, and apparently it was running along the lines of “things that will be great in the life after this.” (FYI, I do believe in an afterlife...however, I can't think about it too hard, or else my brain will explode. Suffice it to say, I've decided that maybe I could be this really hip, cool Angel that sews all of the white robes for us heavenly messengers, but I would make them all edgy, and put boning and hidden corsets in them, and then everyone would all be sexy and such. Hallelujah, right?) Anyhow, in the class discussion, one of the ladies raised her hand and said that she SO looked forward to an existence where all of our relationships are perfect and all of our communication is perfect.
My sister was smiling and nodding, but then suddenly she actually tried to THINK about what that magical dreamland would entail (she has the same overactive type of brain that I do!). She was straining, endeavoring to image out this Utopia of “perfect” relationships, and she realized she didn't even know what that looks or sounds like. For instance, she said that maybe a perfect relationship might be one where she and her husband never argued, but then she realized that those arguments had brought them closer together and strengthened their communication! Wait...so...is that perfect?
It got my brain rolling. What the heck is a perfect relationship? I instantly thought of how I'm always bursting out these fantastic, stupendous, can't-even-believe-no-one-has-thought-of-this IDEAS for businesses, and when I tell them to my husband, he takes his logical, planning brain and starts pointing out pitfalls, drawbacks, and the general booby-trappery of all of my dreams! Maybe a “perfect” relationship would be one where he hears my ideas and gives me a high-five and then we ride off in a Unicorn Rental LLC business into the sunset.
No, actually. No.
A perfect relationship, in my brain, is exactly what happens. I feel annoyed and frustrated by his doubts, and I accuse him of wanting to rain on my Personal Parade Inc. Because of his questions and dubiousness, I get all charged up, with my heart pounding, and my brain whirling, and I come up with solutions for his fears, insights for his misunderstandings, and an even BETTER business plan for the “bottled herbal tea that has all those herbs that are supposed to make your chest bigger” dream!
Is “perfection” what we have already? Do we have to adjust the lenses? If we don't have “perfection”, do we actually WANT IT? Holy crap. Do I really want perfection?
Now, my brain is doing that overthinking my afterlife angel-seamstress existence again. Oh, great. Just perfect!