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Our 2026 Program Calendar is now available. This year marks another important milestone in our history as we launch new programming, products, and more in celebration of Br. David’s 100th birthday.
One of my favorite topics . . .
I’ve been a rescuer my whole life,
always taking the broken one under my wing,
choosing the toy with a missing ear,
the dessert that got messed up in the kitchen,
the runt of the litter.
I always rescue the sorriest looking plants on the ‘clearance’ rack,
and give them a special pot in my hospital window . . .
and choose the animal that most looks like it needs a good home
when I go to the animal shelter . . .
I think I’ve mentioned
that I used to bring baby animals and birds lying on the ground
home to my mother,
and thankfully,
she always let me try to save them.
I am attracted to broken things
and wounded people,
used clothing in the Salvation Army Store . . .
they carry something of the former owner in them,
and that makes me happy,
like I’m carrying on a legacy of some sort.
People who pretend to be perfect
do not interest me . . .
I like to hear real stories of the real lives
that imperfectly perfect have lived . . .
I like the honesty,
the lack of apology . . .
we have already said our ‘sorries’.
They are not here for my judgement . . .
they are here
because they want to be seen for who they are.
They don’t need excuses or reasons;
they just need to be who they are.
Sometimes these are the orphans of the world,
looked over because they don’t present
like the carefully packaged
creatures we see in the entertainment world,
the media,
the commercials,
and sometimes on the streets.
I want to recognize people as people,
people who have forgiven themselves their faults,
and are less likely to judge others.
I want to see a little dirt under their fingernails,
or a few hairs out of place,
maybe a hole in a sock.
I want to see a smile
that tells me there is a real person in there. ♥
“I want to see a smile . . . ” A smile is as a candle flame to a moth, dear Sparrow. It always draws me.
Me too,
dear Joseph . . . 🙂
I enjoy making different crafts (especially in the winter) even though I am not good at it. I enjoy it and it brings me joy. I am not perfect at it but that is not important. It is my own way of expressing creativity.
I love to color and craft as well, I feel exactly the same way. 🖍️🧶🤍
I like native plants. Some people think they look like weeds, and sometimes they do especially if they outgrow their area. I like all trees, plants, and flowers as long as they are not invasive. I actually like a mix of natives and non-invasives. Planted in the right place natives will always be healthier, and the wild look is beautiful.
I agree on the wild look for flower gardens, Mary. Ours gets cut back each fall and all flowers have some of their seeds, when ripe, scattered among the garden. Seems to work well and we have different colored flowers all during the growing season.
My childhood stuffed animal- tattered , sewn on ear, faded eyes just means, love and comfort to me.
I have a stuffed turtle,
dear Dean,
who has worn many skins over the years,
and has eye surgery a couple of times. 🙂
Remember ‘The Velveteen Rabbit’?
It always makes me weep. ♥
Love you have your turtle. I do remember the Velveteen Rabbit. Honestly it wasn’t my favorite I was more of a 100 acre woods girl. 😉
What a treasure. How fortunate you are to still have it, Deann.
Yes thank you
A while back I read Beth Kempton’s book Wabi-Sabi: Japanese Wisdom for a Perfectly Imperfect Life. Michele mentioned this concept and it fits this question perfectly.
I think of nature as perfectly imperfect and beautiful precisely because of that. We don’t find a bush full of flowers beautiful because every single petal is in place, every leaf hanging just so. It’s beautiful in its profusion, however “imperfect” some part might be. Human faces aren’t perfectly symmetrical; if someone edits a photograph of a face by editing the image to make matching halves, the face looks wrong, not beautiful. (Beauty not being the only measure of a human face, either.)
I recently got the book The Daily Artist’s Way: 366 Meditations for Creative Living by Julia Cameron. Today’s prompt: “What does your inner eight-year-old want to say to you?” Much of my response as I wrote my thoughts relates to today’s question. My 8-year-old self did so many things–dance, sing, paint, draw, write, act, run, climb–without self-consciousness around whether I was doing it “right” or perfectly. I learned by doing, not by listening to an inner critic or comparing myself to others.
I’ve found some of that playful engagement again taking classes at my community center. Classes there led to me doing improv in a troupe. Improv by its very nature can’t be “perfected”, it simply emerges. This January I’ll start an introduction to drawing class. I expect very imperfectly perfect results. Whether or not I create something I’d want to frame and hang on a wall, my inner 8-year-old will have fun.
Accepting darkness along with light fits today as Winter Solstice, too. Sharing my blog post with some reflections and links to poems and essays, several of which go well with today’s question. https://biketoworkbarb.blogspot.com/2025/12/winter-solstice-2025.html
Had to come back and add “But Not a Moment Sooner” by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer https://ahundredfallingveils.com/2025/12/18/but-not-a-moment-sooner/.
Eventually we learn to laugh when we drop
the glass and it shatters all over the floor,
finding laughter more fun than a shackle of curses.
We can wiggle our butt more when someone
says it looks big instead of trying to tuck it
tighter beneath our hips. Eventually we learn
there is no way to not be exactly ourselves.
What freedom then. We can listen to the sound
of our own voice without cringing. Can dance
in front of anyone. Can wake up grateful for our aging face
in the mirror. Can wear questions like exotic perfume
and see how they grow us. Eventually,
we can look at each other and say,
I’m so glad you are exactly who you are.
I love this, Barb. Thank you!
I love and watch for gnarly trees.
Ah yes, dear Yram. All life is challenged.
100%! I live near a small park and a much larger one, both forested. The larger one is legacy forest–not quite old growth as it was logged, but the logging was long ago and the trees there now have had a chance to grow to great height with all the understory and complex ecosystems that trees need to be together as a forest. They’re covered in moss (wet western Washington), some have big lumpy bolls, they soar or lean depending on what has happened to them over the years, their limbs create the shapes of dancers or tepees or abstract art as they criss-cross. They’re wonderful.
These sound wonderful, Barb! I wish we could post pictures here, as I would love to see a picture or two of these. I have seen trees whose limbs remind me of dancers. These are the trees I especially love. Although I do love criss-crossing limbs too. Trees amaze me.
I also love seeing “gnarly” trees! There’s a park where we take our dogs that is wooded with trails. One part of the trail has two trees, maybe 4 ft apart, but they have branches that reach out to each other. It looks like they are hugging!
Me, too! I identify with them.
I live in an HOA adult community, and there are strict rules about the appearance of your yard and house. It’s very beige. I grew up and lived most of my life in a town that celebrated individual expression and every house and yard was unique. Most houses were a bit shabby and slightly run down, and for most of my life, I longed for a bit more order and tidiness (careful what you wish for). And now, I find walking around my neighborhood very boring. Not much to look at. I mean, there are plants and trees and birds and little elements of self expression, but I didn’t realize how much I was entertained by all the exuberance. The wildness. The unkemptness. So, I have found a solution. One part of this community is a mobile home park. It’s a very nice one, but they seem to encourage self expression. And now I try to include that in my walks. Every house there, is unique and has lots of whimsical plants and decoration. Definitely a feast for the eyes. Most people here look down on it. Probably just a way to feel more than. Feed there ego a bit. And as usual, I have found that the people there seem more friendly and a bit more welcoming.
And so it goes. The social order. The othering.
Anyway, maybe I’m getting the best of both worlds.
I like my place to be neat and tidy, but I definitely enjoy taking in other people’s uniqueness.
Hi Charlie. Ugly, shabby can be beautiful.
I think of talk radio, an outdated medium. I love it. For a long time I was lonely and it kept me company. I like the different personalities of the hosts. They are my “friends,” I relate to them very personally. It’s my “secret” pleasure.
First, let me say thank you for all the kind and caring messages I received in response to my posts yesterday. It brought me great joy to share my memory with you. Just as it brings me joy to read and learn from your responses to the daily question.
Mr. Rogers Neighborhood came to mind when I read today’s quote and question. I think he sums up the reality that we are all flawed or imperfect in some way. But we are still companions on the journey and capable of love and compassion for each other.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mcq5oW0GvD8
I Like You As You Are
Lyrics by Josie Carey | Music by Fred Rogers
I like you as you are
Exactly and precisely
I think you turned out nicely
And I like you as you are
I like you as you are
Without a doubt or question
Or even a suggestion
Cause I like you as you are
I like your disposition
Your facial composition
And with your kind permission
I’ll shout it to a star
I like you as you are
I wouldn’t want to change you
Or even rearrange you
Not by far
I like you
I-L-I-K-E-Y-O-U
I like you, yes I do
I like you, Y-O-U
I like you, like you as you are
First thing that came to mind was this:
Kintsugi (or kintsukuroi is the Japanese art of filling cracks with gold, which literally translates to “golden joinery” or “golden repair”. This traditional practice involves mending broken pottery with urushi lacquer mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum.
The art of kintsugi is deeply rooted in Japanese philosophies, primarily wabi-sabi, which embraces the beauty in imperfection, transience, and the natural wear of objects over time.
I think embracing imperfection is the main point.
Happy Winter Solstice/Yule – https://nationaltoday.com/yule/ wishing everyone Bright Blessings
The day of the longest shadows. Thank you and may you enjoy this solstice, dear Michele.
Yes I love this also- Japanese art of filling cracks with gold etc
That was the first thing that came to my mind too,
dear Michele!
And Happy Winter Solstice to you too. ♥
Kintsugi is on my list as something I want to learn, Michele, and I love this example. I’ve been saving small items that get broken that I could mend this way after I learn and practice on some pieces. I did some reading about it and hoped to find a class near me; it’s going to have to be YouTube learning. I have a vase, one of a pair, and a coaster, one of a set, both Japanese items my dad brought my mom after World War II, that have gotten cracked or chipped. Kintsugi is the perfect method for restoring them to a new kind of wholeness.
Michele, I’ve seen that guided meditation exercise session before from the Soothing Pod App Ngoc introduced me back in 2023.
Overgrown city lots. People’s unpruned trees. I like messy nature.
Drea, I’ve been told by my mom before that we’re all full of shit to a varying degree. It’s human nature. Nature is imperfect. Knowing all that helps me embrace imperfections further.
Ngoc and I look at each other’s opposites for laughter. For example, her emotional control is less than perfect putting it nicely. As I said from my answer, I’m emotional detached. The grass isn’t exactly greener there. Her emotions helps me with purity while I help her stay calmer when the going gets tougher for our head and heart balance.
Yeah, I like this question. It reminds me that I don’t have to be “good” at something to enjoy doing things that contribute to my pleasure. I’m visually impaired and I love drawing. Since I was little, I’ve known that I enjoy visual things more than audio. However, visually impaired students (low vision) were not allowed to participate in the painting classes at my school.
Some of my low-vision friends and I were lucky enough to attend a special painting class for visually impaired students at our blind school when I was 9 or 10 years old. After that class ended, I realized that painting doesn’t have to be done in a certain way, as long as we can finish the picture in our own way.
However, because I had only taken classes for people with vision challenges, my mind told me I wouldn’t be accepted in a “public” painting class. Then, in my college here in the U.S., I accidentally registered for a painting class due to a misunderstanding of English. That class changed my mind. I was accepted just like any other student. I was required to turn in my projects and perform short descriptions of them, just like my classmates. The teacher never said I couldn’t make it, and she didn’t treat me too specially, I liked that. Nobody in my family complimented my drawings, but I am just happy because my vision is not a barrier between me and the brushes and ink.
May everyone have a happy Sunday. 🎅
I hope you continue to pursue your art work,
dear Ngoc . . .
you have conquered the first hurdle,
and know you can do it. 🙂
NGOC, I had a dear friend (RIP) who was very crippled with Rheumatoid arthritis but she was a painter. I found her paintings very inspiring. She painted from her heart. I’m so glad you ended up in that painting class in college. Kudos to you and your teacher!
My Ngoc, your story is an inspiration for people with disabilities. Art is meant to be skilled and creative. Blindness and other disabilities shouldn’t be barriors.
And they aren’t,
dear Loc,
when people have the courage
to pursue what is ‘impossible.’ ♥
Ngoc, I love this. Have you heard of John Bramblitt, the famous artist who is blind? If anything I would think visual impairment or any kind of physical difference makes art unique and special. We have a painting in the house by an artist with no hands, and I love it.
I googled John Bramblitt,
dear Drea . . .
an amazing painter indeed.
My mother volunteered as a Gray Lady in a Veteran’s hospital,
and worked with men with all sorts of war injuries.
One man
did a painting of a clipper ship on a plate
using his teeth . . .
another amazing painter.♥
As an educator of middle school students for many years, it was not uncommon to hear about all the “problem kids”, or worse, that were coming your way the next year. I determined early in my career I was not going to be part of those conversations. They served no one. The kids who were challenges made that clear pretty quickly each September. Ifound a lot of satisfaction in developing a relationship with them so we could work together and they could have a successful year and my days were way more enjoyable too! Flawed? No. Imperfect? Just like the rest of us.
“Flawed? No. Imperfect? Just like the rest of us.”
Well said,
dear Mary . . .
you have all the makings of a really great teacher,
and I’m sure that many of your students
remember you with fondness. ♥
Thank you. Sparrow.♥️
A big AMEN dear Mary.
Emotional detachment is something others see as flaud but brings me delight. It helps me stay calmer when the deck of cards are stacked against me. It also prevents me from being steered in an undesirable direction even out of goodwill. My root people strongly value intimacy, and I value independence. Misunderstandings and clashings are to be expected.
In recent times, I’m fortunate to continue to face less unsolicited advice from my root people. Establishing a firm foundation and flexibility within it is my secret formula. Inner conflicts make us an easier target for that. We’re likelier to be dependent on others. It gives away the impression that we need extra guidance. They’ll give that to us their way. By then, it’s only fair for them to tell us what to do and how to live our lives.
Playing guitar.
I’m A pretty good beginner, and I have been relearning many songs from my college days (late 60’s) that I could only strum at that time. Since I have been back to practicing an hour or more daily for about three years, I can now actually make that music interesting. I am flawed in so many ways: posture, hand position, finger movements, transitions ,voice (especially). But, seeing even tiny improvements in my ability to finger a single chord that has been my nemesis for months, this is what makes it all worthwhile, and it does indeed bring me delight.
I am happy,
dear John,
that playing your guitar
and seeing your progress
is giving you delight and joy . . .
well worth doing. ♥
Your response to today’s question brings me joy.
John, last night I went to a concert, an Eagles Tribute Band, Out of Eden. Oh the guitar line-up and talent.♥️Somehow, it made reading your response so delightful this morning. An hour everyday for 3 years shows your love for the instrument.
Keep it up. People like me don’t recognize most of the flaws you mention, we just love the passion and result.♥️