The Definition of Perfection

What is perfection?

Most of us strive for it but never fully attain it because we’re human and because the idea of perfection is so intangible.

Is it being better than or having more than someone else or does perfection lie in one’s behavior, actions and conscience?

It seems to me as if society measures perfection by accomplishment but I believe a truer measurement lies in our attitudes and conduct, including being honest about ourselves.

I struggle with my self confidence a lot because I tend to succumb to society’s version of what “perfect” is. I see myself as falling short if I don’t perform as well as others or have as much.

When I’m working on my blog, I try my hardest to stay grounded until I go on the Internet and suddenly see hundreds of great looking informative blogs that seem better than mine. Its intimidating and makes me feel inferior when I compare my work to others.

Fortunately, I have a wonderful husband who sees perfection in ways I sometimes can’t.

When I recently told him about my insecurities, he said he thought my quirkiness and personal foibles made for interesting stories and that he valued originality.

He ventured that having a successful blog is about more than having a professionally made logo, being an authority on something or landing an early placement in the search results. He said personal stories can’t be stolen or duplicated.

He also likes my stick figure drawings.

The pep talk brought me back to my senses.

I understand hard work is necessary to build a successful blog or no one will see it but I’m going to concentrate on seeing myself and my blog as perfect the way they are.

Perfection is ultimately subjective and if we see it as being human, we’re already there.

I’m No Authority

What you WON’T find here.

If you’re looking for authoritative pieces on this and that – keep looking.

You see, I’m no authority on just about everything. What you’ll find here are my personal experiences, thoughts on things, and some poetry with odd themes such as solar power and Halloween.

I’m the first one to admit I’m not perfect. I have a really bad anger problem along with depression and anxiety.

Neither me nor my husband have our shit together by any stretch of the imagination. When we made the big move from our suburban home to a wildly different setting, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to talk about it but I am not offering advice because I probably shouldn’t.

We are self-professed eccentrics; responsible people wannabes. We’re secure enough with ourselves to admit we envy others who seem to have perfect lives. We are the ones who show up at the farmers market to sell something only to discover the seller down the row has four times the inventory, professionally displayed with matching business cards (that really happened).

I’d like to think that we represent the archetypal underdog -that part of our collective consciousness that we hide from each other’s view. I hope that by being honest about ourselves, we can reassure others who suffer from less-than-perfect syndrome.

As a matter of fact, we like being a little off. We’re intelligent and kind and we revel in our off-ness. We are castaways on The Island Of Misfits. In a nutshell, we have low self-esteem but we also think we’re pretty cool. Reconcile that.

I think we all struggle with the idea that we have aspects of ourselves we love and some we loath and they have to occupy the same space in our heads. Just stay on your own sides of the room.

So we’re not perfect, and we didn’t have the picture-perfect display when I sold necklaces at the farmer’s market. We’re the kind of people who’ll use duct tape when we’re supposed to be using electrical. Why?

Because we either can’t afford it, don’t want to do it the right way or don’t know how.

Obsessions of a New Blogger

Things going through my head right now.

I probably edit every one of my posts approximately 12 times – after I post it. And that’s after I’ve already proof read it a dozen times before I post.

I find typos, redundant words, misspellings, too-long paragraphs, points that could have been made better with fewer words, things I forgot to add to the post that I add later.

I imagine someone reading one of my posts as I’m furiously editing it and updating it 10 times in 5 minutes then refreshing their page and it being a completely different topic with completely different images.

Then I question how interesting the content really is. Yellow Jackets? Is that compelling in any way? There’s no call to action or effort to change the world with my words. Just a stupid joke (which I came up with by myself, thank you), and stories about our experiences with them. Is this subject even vaguely fascinating or entertaining?

Then there’s the speck on your computer screen that looks like a period and throws you off. Caution: Don’t ever try to clean your touch screen while it’s active. The series of commands you initiate by trying to wipe that chocolate off will take you places…..

I’ve also tried to edit when I’m on the published public page. I’m trying to click on it to edit it and it’s not working. Duh.

I end up going in circles editing. Write the post, proof read it, post it while somehow overlooking the obvious, reading it on the “visit site” link to see what it looks like to everyone else and finding more mistakes. Adding one missing letter and updating it then going back to the public site and finding something else.

I’m getting dizzy.

Then there’s the stats page. Don’t get me started on that. Being new to this blogging thing, any kind of activity there is totally exciting to me. That page is a regular stop in my obsessive travel back and forth on my blog.

I’m finding writing to be immensely enjoyable and a great outlet. I even get to use some artistic abilities which just makes it that more great! I do amateur photography but I’m not bad at it so I can always photograph my own visual content or scribble it on Paint. I just got my new camera in the mail yesterday and can’t wait to get out and use it. I haven’t had a decent camera since mine got stolen a couple of years ago.

Sometimes I start to wonder if I’m spending too much time blogging but screw that. I’ve found something that maybe I can build into a career with time. I just have to learn how to monetize it.  I have a clear understanding that building any kind of business out of blogging may take years but the fun will carry me through. I’ve had a business before so I’m familiar with the realities and the hard work involved. Bottom line, time spent here is valuable to me in many ways and well worth it.

My husband has seen my excitement while typing away and I read him every post I do. He is incredibly kind, patient, and supportive. I couldn’t ask for more. Besides, it keeps me happy and busy. Of course he’s happy for me. 🙂

I’m guessing my story is familiar to some of you. The obsessiveness, the jumping to see who liked something you wrote, the unending editing, the staring at the computer screen for hours but being quite content as you do so.

Got my ticket for the Merry-Go-Round. I pick the black horse.

I bet this page morphs 6 times in the next 10 minutes 🙂 6 and counting. 7.

It’s Been A Year

Nostalgia time.

I was outside last night near where we’ve located our fifth wheel. It was actually around 1:00 am. An unseasonably warm breeze was blowing  and the chirps of the last critters of the summer drifted through the air.  It was a nice feeling and I was brought back to the early days and nights of a year ago when we first arrived in Colville, WA.

It’s funny how nostalgia works. Fortunately, feelings associated with memories are usually good even though the feelings of the time might have been less than so. When we first arrived last September, we were excited as hell to be new land owners. For my husband, it was his first time living outside of King county.

We originally had our trailer on this spot but moved it to a different part of the property thinking it was more centralized.  We soon realized there was a clear line of sight directly to the neighbors and we don’t like them. We kept the trailer there throughout the winter nevertheless but when we got our fifth wheel, we located it back to this original spot by a hillside where we could keep our “backs” to the wall. Being back on this side of our land brought back a lot of recent past memories, almost as if it happened much farther back in time.

Day 1 on the property, I explored every square inch. It’s 3.7 acres of a little bit of everything. It has two hillsides, a flatlands, forests, and the craggy windy highlands as I call them. I told my husband we should make a map of our place as a fictional land.

We bought our parcel out of a larger one that had been divided into four. Ours is #3 in the top left area. We wanted to buy the adjacent lots but someone beat us to #4.

property

We had seen “junk” piled up on an adjacent lot but I soon realized we had our own portion of the junkyard on our property. Only the last time the garbage was taken out was over 60 years ago. So their junk is now our treasure as they say.

We ordered a title search of the property at the courthouse. The land passed from the hands of the government into private in 1908. The last time it was actually occupied we figure was in the 1950’s. We had walked into a time capsule of sorts.

I think I found the original well. It’s at the top of the property in a little grove of trees in a sunken area. I found it when I was looking for a likely place for water. There was an interesting looking rock dead center in the depression that looked like it had been formed by hands other than nature. Maybe a marker? I dug a little and found the rock to be lose and ill fitting; like it had been moved there by machine to fill the well. We ended up locating elsewhere for water but I still dig up there now and then. I did yesterday and felt warmer water in the bottom as I did with our spring. Geothermal activity maybe?

 

 

In my explorations and aspirations I saw a lot to write about and decided to start a blog but I neglected it for a year. I wanted to write about the adventure we’d just landed on. I now had the biggest back yard an overgrown child could ever want!

love to dig. I grew up in a pile of dirt, in a tree, waiting outside the bar in a car for my mother…just kidding, kind of. Mom would shove us all into the station wagon with no seat belts, light up a cigarette, and make the trip to Grandma’s house several times a year. That was how it was back then.

Anyway, I grew up a kind of a tomboy so this piece of property is heaven to me. My husband told me repeatedly while we were still looking for a place, “don’t worry Babe, you’ll soon be able to dig all you want at any time of the day and no one will be able to stop you”. I have dug holes all over the place. Who does that? I have filled most of them back in for safety and aesthetic reasons.

Another example of the weird factor in myself was the night I found myself burying a salmon in my garden at 130am during a thunderstorm. I wanted to give it back to the land. I felt guilty I had let it go bad because it had been given to me fresh caught. The raccoons found it about 10 minutes later and the last time I saw it about 4 days later, it was hanging off a branch of a tree.

Nostalgia. It’s been a year. We’ve been through so much. Walking near the antiques hillside (the dump), brought it all back to me. That feeling of excitement and wonder. The pride of ownership. The explorability factor was high in this place and still is.

And now I’m finally taking up that blog I started a year ago.