Perfect. 

Practice makes perfect. 

I hear that phrase and I want to rise to the occasion and practice myself to the end. So I can be perfect. Or perfect.ish. At least. 

It used to be “perfect” was an attainable thing in at least some ways. Perfect attendence. Perfect score. Perfect performances. Perfect cookies. Perfect tan. Perfect form. Perfect grade. So I would practice and practice to get there and be rewarded for it. 

But these days I’m pretty convinced there isn’t such a thing as perfect for me. And if there is a perfect it’s not practice that will get me there. Especially in this realm where relationships are my testing grounds. People are just not perfect. And people in combinations are even less so. I would say.

But I still practice. I am learning to accept practice, more than mastery or perfection, makes up a  life and life takes practice. 

Because I won’t ever be perfect. 

So i practice for the sake of practicing. 

I practice not LOSING MY MIND when my toddler has a potty training accident again. 

I practice eating chocolate and not eating chocolate to compensate. 

  
    
   
I practice making food even when I don’t feel like it. 

I practice going to church when maybe I’d rather not. 

I practice thinking and writing. 

I practice being quiet and speaking up. 

I practicing accepting help and making time to thrive.

I practice being here.

I practice listening. 

I practice giving myself the space to still be practicing. 

Most of all I practice grace. 

I practice. 

Do you get what I mean? We all have this urge to do well and to know we are doing well. But there is infinite value in knowing we are not doing well but still trying. Or knowing it doesn’t matter how much we practice and yet continuing to practice. 

It’s not an attempt at perfection. 

It’s knowing we will fail  many ways, but still showing up to the test. 

And that is this life for me. Motherhood. Marriage. Family. And this writing thing too. 

It’s showing up and practicing and giving grace to all the people for all the things. 

I wish I had it down and could say I did this well, but I’m still practicing. 

Maybe practice makes grace. Not perfect.

  
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