Perfection: The Practically Perfect Fallacy

“Floral Bouquet”

Let’s face it.

In today’s society, we judge many things by visual appeal. Everything from cars to homes to clothing and even food is subject to our rating radar.

People are no exception either. Goodness gracious, we judge them, too–by their height, their weight, their hair, their clothes, their moles, their “outer” instead of their “inner.”

And despite our best intentions to the contrary, we determine perfect  based on societal perceptions or the preconceived beauty scale of the moment. Whatever that may be.

Recently, I was at the mall parked at my favorite coffee hang-out. I’d snagged a smallish table and I was enjoying a fresh, hot cup of coffee and a cranberry orange scone.

I was researching.

Oh, alright. Actually, I was people-watching. And eavesdropping. But just a tad.

Here’s what I saw during my hour-long research mission: lots of young women pushing baby strollers–some with sleeping infants, others with cranky, red-faced toddlers, young couples in love, power walkers, aimless wanderers, an elderly woman wearing a mini dress and boots, a young lady with at least nine visible piercings, a kiosk salesperson who kept checking her watch, and several young men who had an obvious affinity for Darth Vader.

Snippets of what I overheard:

• “She had to realize no one would eat them. Let’s be honest, who makes pimento cheese and celery appetizers for Christmas dinner?”

• And… “I don’t have it. Don’t you have it?” (This from a beleaguered gentleman in regard to his wife’s missing purse.)

• And… “You could’ve knocked me over with a feather! I never knew she went to a convent!”

• And still… “But Dad, you promised me 10 dollars for taking out the trash yesterday…”

• My personal favorite… “Do you even know how much I love you?” (This prize by an elderly gentleman who blew his wife a kiss over a shared latte.)

And as I sat there observing, I saw a few others doing the same thing I was doing. Watching and listening.

And I observed them, too. I watched people watching people. I was aware that some were just curious, while still others made assumptions. Like I did when the beautiful young woman sat down one table over from me.

She was in her twenties, tall, graceful, and meticulously groomed. Practically perfect according to society’s standards. And then her cell phone rang. The stream of curses that she rattled off in the next few moments left me confused.

This young woman wasn’t speaking to her party in anger; it became obvious that was simply her style, her way of talking. It was the same way she might speak if she were shopping for groceries or buying a new coat.

Did her unsavory language make her a bad person? No. Did it mean she was ignorant? Not necessarily. Did it mean that she was less than perfect? I suppose that would depend upon one’s standards.

I think what I took home from my coffee break that day was this: perfection is a fallacy. Just when we think we have it all figured out, a new situation or circumstance challenges us to review our perceptions of practically perfect people and things.

I suppose that’s why writers write. If all were truly perfect, our stories wouldn’t be worth reading. There would be no tension, no conflict, and no life lessons learned. There would be no need for our characters to realize their need for Christ. There would be no need for us to examine our view of perfection.

Did you notice the photo above? It’s a photo of one of my favorite paintings. It was given to me by a precious niece who came to us all the way from China. This niece has gorgeous, silky black hair and dark, expressive eyes. She has a tender heart and a ready smile. She’s also legally blind.

I’m so glad that perfection is a practically perfect fallacy. And I’m thankful that the One who is perfect has made it so.

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What types of characters do you prefer reading about?

Do you think it’s important that we portray “real life” in fiction?

Blessings Always,