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I'm going to tell you some lies:
You have to be perfect,
all the time.
And if you're not really good at something, right away,
you clearly shouldn't do it; it's not meant for you – get outta the way.
If you think you could do it, but only with help,
forget it. You can't just ask someone for what you need.
No one really likes you, or wants good things for you.
You're not worth their time, because they're ahead and you're behind.
If someone likes you? They're either stupid or desperate.
So you can't trust anyone, no matter how smart or kind they seem.
And you definitely can't trust yourself, because you are
failing at being perfect – you are weighing down the team.
And one last lie –
that none of the following is true:
That you were born whole, and you're learning how to use
the tool that is you—from your arms and eyes,
to your feelings and mind, to your
memories and dreams.
That how you hope to be liked—
cared about and accepted,
called in and connected,
appreciated and respected—
is also everyone else's guiding light.
That people are invested in you thriving, if only because
you're falling in the same holes they fell in once.
That the more people see you—
the real, half-lost half-found,
like-them life in your face—
the more they will offer and ask
to share and to learn
across that sensory space.
That the worse you are at something, the better you get
at understanding how it works—
each slow step that you make,
each detail you refine.
That—if you were born as perfect as your dreams—
You'd never try,
never imagine, never grow,
never understand how to help another soul.
And you'd be the only, lonely one:
bored and boring,
perfectly done,
no skill to practice,
no challenging game
to play,
no fun laughing at yourself
(or with anyone else
“I used to do it that way”) …
You'd just more and more
want to be imperfect,
as time went by.
From the beginning, I found the first line of “I’m going to tell you some lies,” to already be impactful because one of the main issues with this conflict of perfection for me personally is that I know that the concept of me having to be the best is a lie, yet I still push towards that goal. Even though I do not fully feel the extent of people telling me that I am not good enough or that I should give up at everything I am not successful in, there is a lingering pressure that extends beyond those who offer me guidance that encourages greater success even through less beneficial means. For example, in high school I was met with the conflict of choosing between music and continuing wrestling after my freshman year, and although I greatly enjoy both, I ultimately had to make the decision along with the influence of others that realistically my future in wrestling is limited compared to music performance, causing me to drop martial arts and focus on pursuing my musical interests. Many of your poems play with the idea of perfection and how people work to better themselves in the future, often with the cost of losing satisfaction with the present, and this poem adds to that by explaining that life is not supposed to be perfect, as perfection is boring and offers none of the nuance that makes life meaningful. I have been guilty of this myself because as people will ask me if I want to do something like play volleyball, I would respond with “I’m not very good at volleyball” and search for an alternative. One of my friends even told me that if I’m not good at it I should learn because it brings a lot of social opportunities, which convinced me that the fun in playing sports does not come from winning every time but playing the game and being around my friends. This is the same satisfaction that I need to apply to all aspects of my life to find more joy in it.
ReplyDeleteFrom my interpretation, the image adds to this by showing that the beauty of the jewels is not beyond reach but is instead inside one’s body as a part of their heart and soul. People often search for that gem in their lives and often even hold on to any reminisce of it that they have such as something they are good at, but that prevents them from discovering the rest of the beauty around them that is found through simple efforts to discover inner passion through experimentation and trying new things. The dashes at the ends of many of the lines show the pause for thought, as it invites deeper reflection of the previous line. For example, it emphasizes the realization that others are forced to follow the same journey, and that it is this journey that defines success over being the best. In a world where people strive to prove that they are successful, society as a whole does not realize the actual importance of each individual acknowledging their flaws as a part of their humanity and using them to connect and grow instead of putting them alone as the best.
“That if you were born as perfect as your dreams [...] You'd just more and more want to be imperfect, as time went by.” If the joy in life comes from working toward perfection, yet being in a state of perfection brings lonesomeness, boredom, essentially, imperfection, then what do we work for at all? This reminds me of the existentialism that we learn about while reading The Stranger. Of course, perfection is not discussed at large in that conversation, as something like perfection, really, does not exist; not in reality nor in existential thought. There is no such thing as a perfect person, or a single path to achieve “meaning” in life, perfection indicates that there is no alternative, but, in all things, there are multiple paths, processes, or people. I find the idea relayed, that through one’s visible struggle, a human struggle, others will find relation and comfort to the oneself in question. I recall taking a personality quiz in my psychology class this year that prompted an insightful discourse: “Do you find beauty in chaos?” I do, that is the final answer I came to. There has to be beauty in chaos, as chaos is an essential part of the human experience; all experience it, and frankly, I think all ought to experience it. It’s like the transitive property of equality, which I find myself thinking of a lot reading these poems: if chaos = human, and human = beautiful, then chaos = beautiful. Perfection makes one unrelatable, alien, as stated, we connect to others because of our similarities, and one constant thing we all share (in life), if the only thing at all, is struggle, chaos, imperfection. In this “half-lost half-found” there is beauty in the confusion and the discovery, but become too found, too perfect, or just plainly too lost, that is when things get less human. Odd how we straddle the middle.
ReplyDeleteI like the way you math :) I don't know that I always see the beauty in chaos, but it's usually very good at grabbing my attention.
Delete“You'd just more and more want to be imperfect, as time went by”. This poem really touched a special place in my heart. I was drawn to this poem because I love the way that it glorifies and exposes the beauty that comes with imperfection. There are connections that can be built, experiences that can be shared, progress that can be made, just by not being perfect at something on your very first try.
ReplyDeleteIt is a very calming concept to be reminded of the fact that we are all experiencing our lives for the first time. No matter how much some people may think they know exactly what they are doing, they are essentially leading just as blindly as all of the rest of us.
There have been many times throughout my life where I have tried something new, and thought that it just was not meant to be because I was not the best at it just as I was getting started. When I first began playing lacrosse, I started over Covid, when many people had been playing for years and I had just recently learned with my dad in the backyard. It was terrifying for me to show up to tryouts with so little experience, but that was what made it all the more exciting when I made it onto the team. As I worked my way into the sport in the next three years, I was able to improve and become immensely better. I was so excited to have put in the work and for it to have paid off, but I realize that hardly any of that excitement would have been there if I hadn’t started off as inexperienced as I once was.
As enticing as it is to want to be perfect at everything we wish, we would lose the refreshing feeling of improving, learning, and growing, which I am endlessly grateful for.