Forget Your Perfect Offering

​Writing my first blog post, I am struggling. I have been planning to write for weeks, but something gets in the way. Something that tells me that I can't write well enough, that no one will be interested in reading my words, and that in order to put myself out there it must be. . . exceptional.  

These thoughts infiltrate my mind and cause me to sidestep the effort it takes to just sit down and begin typing. Suddenly washing the dishes seems vitally important, or I simply must check the status of my last facebook post, or golly, I think I need a snack.  

Amidst this cacophony of criticism and avoidance clanging around inside, there is also a gentle lullaby, softly crooning in the background. I hear the words of Leonard Coen, like a tender gift from the Universe: "Forget your perfect offering."  

"Forget your perfect offering".  

Wait. What?! Forget my perfect offering and just get some words on the page, without struggling and agonizing that everything I say will be inadequate, judged, and found lacking? How absurd! I'm not sure I can do that. 

But I pause again, and listen. And I listen some more. I let this idea sink into my being. I wonder, what if my words were good enough, even without being exceptional. What if I could allow my writing to be seen and witnessed, even if it is mediocre and imperfect. After all, isn't that my message? Embrace imperfections? Who am I to teach radical self-love if I can't practice putting myself out there, in all my imperfect glory? 

If I want to inspire others to take a leap into being visible, then I must do the same, consistently.  

So today, dear ones, I am writing. I will forget my perfect offering, and just offer. With my heart open and my hands outstretched, I offer myself to you, imperfections and all.  

Imperfectly Yours, 
Carissa

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