Make peace with your bacteria

I don't consider myself a perfectionist, but for quite a long time i've been an avid disliker of flaws. Be they physical or in character or wherever else they may squeeze themselves on.

Now, disliking flaws when you have them, inevitably, means you find yourself disliking parts of you. If anyone wants to start a fast-growing business today they can come up with an idea that seems to 'fix' what people don't like about themselves. It could be physical appearance (there's the make-up and plastic surgery industries for that), or just spending time alone (social media thriving). 

What has baffled me for a long time though is, why would a perfect God create an imperfect people? Then i thought, uhh, our idea of perfection is probably flawed too.

We have an entire ecosystem of microorganisms that live in and on our bodies that have been found to be actually good for us; like so good we in a successful commensal relationship with them. In fact, we NEED these lil' homies so much that the ones living in our intestines, for example, help us digest our food and stuff.  If a person prolongs their intake of antibiotics, they may kill off the good bacteria and cause a disbalance in their health. However, this good bacteria is still bacteria and can still cause disease in certain conditions (e.g in people with low immunity).

So, no matter how many times a day you're bathing, or 'detoxing' (all good); bacteria will still be there😆...i'm getting to my point, i promise.

Yep, here it is; make peace with it. 

The only person condemning you for what you do wrong right now is yourself. God is not anticipating the next time you fall and He definitely won't be surprised if you do. 

He's not saying be careless with your flaws, He's saying I love you in spite of them. All of you. 

I love a Francesca Battistelli song that says,      "I got a couple dents in my fener,

   Got a couple rips in my jeans

   Trying to fit the pieces together

    But perfection is my enemy

    And on my own I'm so clumsy

    But on Your shoulders I can see

     I'M FREE TO BE ME" 

Have you heard of the other Serenity Prayer?
"Lord, grant me the serenity to stop beating myself for not doing things perfectly,
The courage to forgive myself because I'm working on doing better,
And the wisdom to know that you already love me just the way I am."
Amen.

Each New Dawn.

An orange-red hue on the horizon, bird silhouettes flying against its background, fresh Oxygen, A new day...

We start on a slightly microscopic level :
The sun's rays in a blend of all rainbow colours enthusiastically race each other to touch the atmosphere for this new morning. They greet dew drops retiring for the day as they slip off green leaves. Chlorophyll on the leaves joyfully welcomes the rays; 'Good morning.' The electric life of a new day is transmitted from the leaves, to the branches and down the trunk to the roots in the ground. It overflows onto the soil, bringing each particle alive with the fragrance of a brand new morning. The freshened earth has insects cricking with happiness, passing on new mercies to each other. The harmonised cricking insects, chirping birds, the tranquil flow of streams, and the light waves waltzing with oxygen particles in the air - all compose a masterpiece; the Dawn Song of Nature.

We zoom in to a more macroscopic level:
A human. He hits the snooze button with a hand that threatens to strangle the alarm. Then he slumps off the bed a while later, eyes dreary, mind wondering why nights are always so short. The she next to him also rises, feeling heavy and weary.
 The life in the water they bathe does a somewhat remarkable job in soothing their 'dreary' skins.
Looking into the mirror before doing her make-up, lady stares not in the depth of her soulful eyes but on the surface of the skin she always thinks needs to change, somehow. Her powder gives a closer version of what's more desirable.
The man is looking into his two noted wallet; wondering exactly what he did with the rest of the notes that used to be in there; for the smile on his face hinges on the contents of this wallet.

When they step outside and meet the happy new day, it's just another ordinary morning. Same old world with war, famine, and corruption.

Detail is lost in between terrains of vanity.

Today is The Present. A certain joy should come from just the thought of unwrapping a unique one every morning.

She wasn't ordinary

She knew she was never meant to blend in. 

Sometimes it bothered her how too different she was, how she seemed to be a mutated piece of the rest of society's puzzle. 

She tried this conformity thing but it stung, screaming back at her what she already knew - 'you're not meant to be ordinary.'

Standing out is crazy when everyone else is sitting down and seemingly enjoying it. 

The mistake she made when she tried to stand was watch those that were sitting; they weren't paying attention to her, like she was invisible. And if they did, it was to point out how silly she looked standing. Attention should never have been the reason she stood up. She sat back down. But then, that conformity sting couldn't be ignored.

'Take some pain-killers and forget the pain.' No, Fear, you take a seat as I go for what's meant for me.

So, she stood back up; this time, unconcerned if anyone was looking or not.

 'Expression, not impression,' she reminded herself. 'You don't need an audience.'

She stood not to prove a point to anybody but herself. 'Just how high can I reach?' Her only competition was herself, and she had to win.

She gazed up to the blue sky. It had streaks of soft, wavy white. She kept gazing. A massive blue sky of endless greatness. The more she kept her head up, the less fearful she felt, and the fainter the voices of the seated became.

Walt Whitman's words came to her mind,

'I exist as I am, that is enough. If no other in the world be aware, I sit content. And if each and all be aware, I sit content. One world is aware and by far the largest to me and that is myself. And whether I come to my own today or in ten thousand, or ten million years, I can cheerfully take it now, or with equal cheerfulness, I can wait.'

She smiled.

With her right hand, she unclipped her wings, and out they spread in glorious display. Her feet defied gravity and gradually she ascended up, one flap at a time. She soared into the sunset.