Contemplating Imperfection

It has recently come to my attention (though not for the first time) that I have no marketable skills. There really isn't anything that I do well. Although I enjoy flower gardening, a cursory glance at my flower beds will quickly tell any observer that I am no gardener. The landscaping pictures in my head never quite make it to real life.

Past life John did well in retail sales, managing a jewelry store for a national chain and then leading two stores in sales for a now defunct lumber company. People sometimes commented about the difference when I switched from wearing a suit and selling jewelry to wearing khakis and loading lumber. I generally responded by telling them it wasn't that different -- I just went from selling rocks to selling sticks.

I generally did okay at sales. At one point I even peddled salvation for your soul. At least that's what the evangelism gig often felt like -- carnival barkers looking for suckers to bring into the big tent. 
Incidentally, I did pretty well at that, too.

The air traffic control (ATC) gig had a pretty unique set of skills. I can't really think of another occupation that they would transfer into. It is a good thing that retirement suits me well. I am extremely comfortable enjoying life from the deck of our rural home and being a non-productive member of society. For the past decade, my sole contribution to society has been as a consumer and that's pretty much it.

I embrace the low skill level I have when it comes to gardening. I'm learning as I go.
The same goes for my struggles with learning to smoke meats on the little smoker I have. Learning by failing kind of sucks, but it seems to be okay in gardening and outdoor cooking. It probably is not a great way to learn that ATC job.

I think that for most things in life a little imperfection is okay. Perfection is often oppressive and the stress to be perfect can be detrimental to one's health or even to relationships. I'm not saying that we should strive for imperfection, but I do believe that we should recognize that all of life is a learning process and that imperfection is a necessary part of that. 
And perfect can be different depending on perspective.

When I am cutting flowers to bring into the house and put into a vase, I look for the perfect ones, the fully developed ones with no missing nor damaged petals. The butterflies and bees seem to like the newly opened blossoms and the golden finches go for the ones that have started producing seeds. The insects and hummingbirds are attracted to the brightly colored ones, but I like to mix in a few of the pale colors for contrast.
Maybe nature is trying to teach me that imperfection isn't really a thing and that understanding that timing and purpose makes it (and us) all well suited to the moment.

Hmmm...

John