Happily Imperfect

Most of us live in a culture and society which is totally obsessed with perfection.

An obsession which invariably leads to pain.
Emotional, psychological, physical, social and financial pain.

The perfection obsession is rampant.

It's completely ridiculous.
It's unhealthy.
It's unrealistic.
And it's potentially very dangerous.

I have personally seen it lead to anxiety, depression, social dysfunction, eating disorders, emotional problems, unrealistic expectations, ruined relationships, massive financial debt, destructive habits and unfortunately, the occasional suicide.

We (we, the society) want it all.


Perfect bodies.
Perfect teeth.
Perfect careers.
Perfect academic scores.
Perfect relationships.
Perfect children.
Perfect lives.

We try and convince ourselves that we're all about the deep and meaningful, but when we take an honest, realistic look at how we live as a collective of people... the overwhelming message (perhaps not from you and I personally) is to aim for perfection.

And in order to have (the appearance of) perfection, we (we, the society) will do almost anything.

We have ten credit cards and spend money we don't have.
We obsess about labels and brands.
We obsess about how others see us and what they think of us.
We mutilate our healthy bodies with elective surgery and make rich surgeons richer.
We preen, pluck, suck and tuck ourselves within an inch of our lives (literally sometimes).
We starve ourselves.
We self-diagnose and self-medicate.
We lie to ourselves and others.
We spend our lives acting out our perfect marriage, career, existence.
We compromise our values.
If only we could all see the beauty of our flaws.
The beauty of normal.
If only we couldn't understand the (potential) happiness in normal.

I love my life, my relationships, my career, my body and my existence on the big blue ball despite my big nose... my slightly chubby tummy...my fifty-seven bad habits, my numerous issues... and my atrocious singing voice.

I'm happy in my imperfection.

When we live in a paradigm that says "I will be happy when XYZ is perfect", then we are destined for a life of misery.

When we learn to be happy with (rejoice in, even) our imperfect selves, our imperfect lives, our imperfect relationships and our imperfect bodies, then we're on the road the real personal growth.

Aiming for better is admirable, possibly even noble... but striving for perfection is stupid.

The moment we stop chasing perfection and start aiming for enlightenment (self-awareness, self-realisation, a different way of thinking and being) is the moment we start to move towards genuine happiness.

Where we sit on the (world famous) Craig Harper Happiness Continuum (made that term up but I like it... you can use it!) is inversely proportional to our desire for perfection.

That is, the less we are... all about perfection, the happier we will be.

So... the take home message you crazy kids?

(1) Perfection is a myth.

(2) It's perfectly normal to be imperfect.

(3) Stop trying to be some perfect, weird-ass version of you... and be you.

I know professional personal development writers aren't meant to use terms like weird-ass, so... I'd like to apologize for my inappropriate, imperfect communication style.


By Craig Harper


unfurl and unchained

Unfurl and Unchained.
The unsongs of magical times.
The hymns of soul discovery.
People matter.
Personalities matter.
"I've embraced mine in loving light", he said.
The dim piano drops coming out of the silent whiteness.
Falling like glowing snowflakes.
Into the silent whiteness.
The wind stings my face and tears up my eyes.
A taste of blood in my mouth.
Believing is love, obsessing is fear.
We've forgotten what love is.
Always remembering...
The unconscious whispers, the constant backnoise of thought...
That we could find...
A way back there...
Beyond the moon...
Right through the air...

Goes with:


only love is real

та, поне изводът, до който аз съм стигнала, е, че истинската любов е това, което всъщност сме
едно цяло
и егото спира достъпа до това осъзнаване
както каза ти, не е "празнина", а непознаване на себе си
и в моменти на липса на его
с друг човек
си спомняме
от какво сме направени


a comment on "beyond karma"

This comment really is so perfect, I'm going to quote it:

“if there is nothing to accelerate this journey, then how do I experience some kind of peace”

Janice, we may not be able to accelerate the journey, at least not with the mind, but we can enjoy it. Instead of focusing on finding an answer, solution, just know that there is confusion, and then give yourself a break. Think of ways to give your mind, body, and emotions a break. And, have peace knowing that you will find peace, and that you are enjoying the journey. If you fight with confusion and give it too much attention, then may be you will tire yourself (and possibly others around you), and give up on the journey.

Times with confusion were the times I gave myself a break from all the “spiritual talk” and went out to play, went for a swim, a good meal, and maybe a movie. Those were the times I tried not to get attached to the words, the concepts, to figure them out, or figure out the confusion. Just let it be. If you try to figure out confusion, you will do so with your mind, and the mind will drive you mad. Just let the confusion be.



Honestly, I had no idea that this would fuck me up so bad... :(

just a portal

We're just a portal, darling. Nothing more.
What are we so scared of?
There's nothing to lose.
It's already there.
It's what we are made of.

I always thought that I was me. But no, I was wrong, I was you and never knew it.

Embrace this moment.
We are eternal.
All this pain is an illusion.



Such a moment of clarity.
Suddenly I see everything through the lucid winter air. All pain is gone. Everything is SO SIMPLE, how come I didn’t see it before? Yes, that’s exactly what it is: a slight shift in perspective, a subtle, intangible sparkle in perception.

We are all made of love.

We’ve just lost the key. The key to awareness of our substance. That’s what we’ve been searching for, it’s already there..... There’s nothing to look for, nothing to seek, it’s there. And it’s going to be there all the time, forevermore......

If the doors of perception were cleansed, every thing would appear to man as it is, infinite.

We are all made of stars. Universes within us. There are so many gateways to this infinity, we just need to reach out and open the doors. There are keys that work instantly – touching a soulmate, holding you child, being present.
This is our natural state.

Why have we been missing something that’s been there all along?

Yes, Kaushik, the I does not exist, it’s just an idea. We are all synchronic eons.

Danny, I hope you see what a sheer wonder your album is. It is a pure gateway to love. Nothing more, nothing less. Thank you.


a moment

Fruit wine, Opeth and a dark cafe... Life is beautiful.


insomnia thoughts

Everything is fucked up and I am happy. The magic of NOW.
So much energy. Where did it come from?!


he's a dreamer

He's a dreamer. He's walked a long path since his abusive childhood and damaging youth. He's healed. He smiles a lot and seems peaceful and mature. He has the sparkling unborn star of wisdom in his chest.

He is unbearably lonely. He knows he should accept it and let go. He is struggling. He's denying the chaos within. Trying to stay on the surface. But at night it feels like drowning. Ugly thoughts emerge. He lets them pour in and gets lost in his desires.

His dreams are beautiful but painful and raw. Untouchable. He shares them and denies having shared them. He doesn't want anyone touching them. He's a solitary child.



If there’s a mirror you want, just look into my eyes...
But I’ve never looked into your eyes.
Yet you’ve been my mirror for ages.
I see you each time I look up to the sky.
I still feel you when I smell the autumn streets.
The notion of looking into your eyes is overwhelming. It scares me on so many levels, yet there’s an odd that everything will fall into place.
Like it always has.
There’s a chance one glance will encompass years of understanding and love.
We’ll remember all the songs that we’ve shared and everything will stay still in relief.
One look will scrape us bare and will leave only what is real. The core of our souls will come to light like it always has.
Maybe we’ll be too scared to speak. Maybe we’ll feel we’ve never had to talk. Maybe it will feel like home. Maybe we will cry. It will be a moment of utter nowness.

all the souls I adore


Here’s two words for you, he said: ha ha
You’ve switched lobes, he said.
I don’t do shoes, clothes and tv shows, he said.
Forgot how much it hurts to miss a breathing being in this world, she said.
You’ve made kinetic that which was inert, he said.
I adore the way you write, I said.
No fucking peace of anything can help it right now, she said.
You’ve never been in the left lobe, he said.
Vortexes abound, he said, it’s cosmic and divine.
Let’s see where this goes, I said.
There is no ‘this’, he said.
My neurons are firing in a different way now, I said.
Your neurons are hurting my neurons, he said.
I'm just glad to know you're there somewhere, she said.
You’re hurting me, I said.
You’re hurting yourself, he said.
Welcome to my post-modern world, I said.
Your pre-post-modern world was very different, he said.
I’ve read the book from cover to cover and I’m sorry, I said.
I forgive you, forgive me, I said.
Dreams are reflections of your own mind, he said.
I bet Tori and Alanis are laughing at me, I said.
So how do you feel about it, he said.
It felt good, I said.
How are you, she said.
Reborn, I said.


the power of looooooooooooove!

carpe diem

Today was a long walk in the wind with my son. It's amazing to watch him make sense of things. It's amazing to realize that HE UNDERSTANDS. In his own unique way. I bet he sees things much clearer than I ever will. Everything is interesting to him. HE LIVES IN THE MOMENT. He notices every sound, every texture, every light... Nothing else matters to him than NOW.

Today was a big day for Dora's music development. I bought myself a pair of shamefully expensive wireless headphones. I want to turn into a Bradbury character: never putting my headphones down and reading people's lips. My precious:

First thing I heard: OPETH. It was like a revelation, like I had never heard them before. It was one of those moments when a band suddenly gets you by the throat and you're like: WOW, where the fuck have I been all these years? Today I fell in love with Opeth.


here comes the sun

It's seven in the morning and I just saw the last gleams of Venus. My son is drinking his milk beside me. I promised myself that I would write every day, but yesterday evening my head was completely empty. Which is a very healthy feeling by the way.  


Next week there will be an exhibition of Dali's illustrations for the Divine Comedy and I want to write an article about it. The illustrations are so precious and they follow Dante word by word.
And last week there was an exhibition of Magritte. Did you know that the window in "The Looking Glass" is actually cut out of the painting like in a child's book?

Here comes the sun... Breathing is bridging the gap between black and light.

I feel good.


warm and windy


The last few days have been very special. It’s the weather.
And windy.
The sky is a blackish-gray, but there is an inner light in the air coming out of nowhere...
My new job is on a small street full of foreign shops, enclosed by dancing yellow trees. I see them dance in the light of my window. I see a balcony that’s falling apart gracefully. The yellow leaves rain on the balcony.
And I miss you most of all, my darling...
Today I met someone who likes to take pictures of sunrises. We exchanged sunrises.
I am learning to forgive. I thought I could forgive, but now I see that real forgiveness is so much greater than what I’ve been doing. Real forgiveness is acceptance that “What Is Just Is”. Acceptance of the moment - of everything that lies within.
It is
But when it happens, it’s beautiful.


In the shadow...

Here at the edge of this world

Here I gaze at a pantheon of oak, a citadel of stone

If this grand panorama before me is what you call God...

Then God is not dead.

- Agalloch


През призмата на Изида

Изида наистина си отива с дъжда...

Всъщност с какво не си отива Изида?

Изида и пътуване под арка от дървета...

Изида и слънчогледови полета...

Изида и снопове от лавандула...

Изида и слънчеви зелени хълмове...

Изида и първа морска пяна по глезените...

Изида и танцът на теченията...

Изида и платна на хоризонта...

Изида и морска безметежност...

Изида и хладната утеха на водата...

Изида и вятър по солената кожа...

Изида и зрели златни звезди...

Изида и непрогледно черно море...

Изида и миризма на огън и сол...

Изида и Млечният път...

Изида и Касиопея...

Изида и величието на небето.

Изида и величието на водата.

no direction

I watched the people from above,
how they are hurrying at any cost
and most of them, in look for love
are going nowhere like they're lost.
Their minds, obsessed by dreaming,
are filled with sorrow or with doubt,
but just a single day with meaning
is surely better than a life without.

- Николай Николов


И все пак тя се върна...

"Можеше ли да я задържи? Можеше ли да я задържи, ако беше друг? Но какво щеше да задържи? Само една илюзия и нищо друго. Не бе ли достатъчно и това? Можеше ли да се постигне нещо повече? Кой знаеше нещо за черния вихър на живота, който кипеше безименно в чувствата ни и превръщаше празния звук във вещи, маса, лампа, родина, в Ти и любов? Съществуваше само предчувствие и страхотен полумрак. Не бе ли достатъчно и това?

Не бе достатъчно. Достатъчно бе само, ако човек вярва в него. Щом кристалът е разбит от чука на съмнението, човек може само да го залепи и нищо повече. Да го залепи, да излъже и да наблюдава натрошения му блясък, който е бил някога бяло сияние. Нищо не се връща. Нищо не се повтаря. Нищо! Дори ако Жоан се върне, няма да бъде същото. Само залепен кристал. Мигът бе отлетял. Нищо не можеше да го върне назад.

Той почувства остра, непоносима болка. Нещо го разкъсваше. „Господи, боже мой — помисли си — как може да страдам толкова, и то затова! Наблюдавам се отстрани, но това не променя нищо. Знам, че ако загубеното се върне, ще го изпусна отново, но копнежът ми ще остане жив. Аз разсичам болката като труп в моргата и по тоя начин хилядократно я съживявам. Знам, че един ден ще мине, но това сега не ми помага.“ Той хвърли премрежен поглед към прозореца. Почувства се ужасно смешен, но и това нищо не промени.

Силна гръмотевица разтърси града. Дъжд закапа по храстите. Равик стана. Улицата изглеждаше посипана с черно сребро. Дъждът запя. Едрите топли капки обляха лицето му. Той престана изведнъж да разбира смешен ли е, или жалък, страда ли, или не. Знаеше само, че е жив. Жив. Животът го държеше и разтърсваше. Не беше само страничен наблюдател; величието на неудържимото чувство пламтеше в жилите му като огън в пещ; нямаше значение дали е щастлив, или нещастен. Достатъчно беше, че е жив и съзнава това. "

"Триумфалната акра"