I make my little protests, my small rebellions. I leave a basket of laundry unfolded. I refuse to pair the socks. I leave my dishes in the sink. I leave leftovers in the fridge too long. I don’t water my houseplants, watching them wither from thirst. Tiny revolts against an otherwise well managed life. Could I do all these things too? Sure. The energy to complete them is not exorbitant. But….leaving them undone means I give myself permission to be less than perfect. My microscopic anarchy. For a person who, for reasons not fully explainable, has lived a driven life, these little “failings” and “mess ups” keep me real. They keep me from buying the propaganda that if only you try hard enough, if only you apply yourself with earnest, you can be perfect. What a trap. A lie. I am no longer shackled with the compulsion to do everything perfectly. It is a tolerance and acceptance of myself that is new. In the imperfections of life, one finds true acceptance and love. Learning to accept the not so perfect is a learned agility, the kindness to forgive a blemish or a fault is a genuine gift to ourselves. as well as others. Now these little tasks left undone may seem absurd and silly, but for a person trained to juggle ALL things, they distract and nag. They can taunt you and break your confidence. Learning to tolerate the unfinished task is an exercise. Or at least that is what I will use as an explanation as to why my laundry is all washed but left unfolded for 3 days. It is all a mental exercise.