Perfectly Incomplete

We all have a song that jumps out of the radio into our heart. That one that is "our song." 

Lately,  that song for me is the song "Masterpiece" by Jessie J.  I really love Jessie J.'s music.  She always seems to find the perfect lyrics to capture the passion in someone's soul. I also love her music because of the hope and promise her music conveys.  When I heard "I'm perfectly incomplete, I'm still working on my Masterpiece," I realized that I am a work in progress.  I always will be. It is okay to be "perfectly incomplete." 

I, like many, struggle with a lot of feelings of inadequacy. There is always some prettier, smarter, richer, more fit, more successful, more confident.  Why can't I be them?  Who is that person who has everything I think I want?  I don't know, but if I were more like them surely I would be happier.  That was what I always believed. 

I used to post crazy long posts on Facebook until a friend told me she didn't have time to read my Facebook posts, and maybe if I started a blog she could read it when she had "time." She told me no-one commented on my posts because they didn't have "time" to read what I wrote.  I wondered "Well, why don't you just wait until you have "time" to read my Facebook posts?"  It hit me at the wrong time, and I was really ready to tell this friend she could free up more "time" by keeping her opinions to herself.  It was a really hard day for me on the day she told me, and I was really just not pleased to have someone tell me they didn't have time for me.  Well then why did she call me if she didn't have "time?" 

Time is this amazing luxury, this commodity that seems to be infinite.  We never have enough time, but we always believe we have more time.   That is, until we don't.   That is, until we have run out of "time" with someone we love or need or want.  Once their time is up, there is no more time.

This has been a hard year for me. I have lost several people I love.  I have also watched as those I love have lost their loved ones, whom I never met.  Well, this first post can't be about death, can it? I mean, that's a real drag.  It is not meant to be a drag. It is meant to call us to action. It is meant to make us realize that we need to make the best of our time.

Maybe we will all die as perfectly incomplete masterpieces, but why not at least work on the masterpiece of the life we want to create. Let's get busy. It isn't going to paint itself, build itself, write itself or sing itself.