F**k Perfect!

Greetings,

Proceed with caution...
This is where it gets raw and real. Ready to experience the messy human state in all it's guts and grandeur?

No apologies, no self help manuals, just the gritty truth of my own perfectly imperfect unreasonable journey.

Permission to be authentic? Granted!





Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Love, Light, and the "F word"

Ms. Pepper Valenzuela, one of my sheroes!
What do you mean by “Fuck Perfect”? Isn’t that kind of negative? Do you have to use THAT kind of language?

No I don’t have to, I choose to. Let me tell you why…

I believe it is the energy we bring to our words that gives them meaning. Any word can be used to disempower you, or empower you. That choice is yours.

For me the word fuck has a fierceness that gets your attention. First off it says, “No I won’t be blowing any sunshine up your butt, it’s time to get real!”
It invites you to show up with a hole in your stockings, and to go ahead and break a nail in pursuit of something genuine. Rolling off the tongue it vibrates with the kind of determination that took down the Berlin Wall, and kept Gandhi fasting for sovereignty.

“Fuck Perfect” invites me to get back up, wipe off the dirt, blood, or both, and try again. Without the noose of perfection, all that exists is practice. I can do that. Oh and by the way, practice does not make perfect. Practice makes us stronger, wiser, and much more patient. Just when I think I’m gaining some form of mastery, another layer is revealed. A more complex subtle stratum my less practiced self had not yet the capacity to perceive.

“Fuck Perfect” gives me permission to quit living lies. The masks can fall wayside. I can ask for help when I need it. I can receive feedback without being crushed. I can open myself up a little more to the other beautiful messy humans. It allows me to love all of me and all of you.

If the word bothers you, try owning it.  It’s a word, not a grizzly bear, not the weapon of mass destruction you’ve turned it into. You have the power to take it back. I give you permission to try it on, roll it around your mouth, see how it tastes. Then when you find yourself caught in the cross hairs of your own perfection myth, paralyzed by fear of failure and what others might think…Let that baby rip!

I’ve turned it into my sacred freedom mantra. Come on, chant it with me three times. Inhale and... “Fuck perfect! Fuck perfect! Fuck perfect!!!!