It’s been a tender week for me, learning once again to embrace an imperfect life. I have been coming to terms with letting go of hopes and dreams for this spring, and accepting physical limitations that I had hoped I had overcome.

Embracing an Imperfect Life

With visions of myself in the woods hiking and photographing and spending extended time on the North Shore of Lake Superior hiking, biking, and photographing dancing in my head, the reality of where I am instead is disappointing.

I had hoped that this year would be a continuation of last summer and fall’s wonderful feeling good to move and having energy to enjoy life (after many years of chronic pain), and I was full of plans for photography workshops, travel, and time in the woods this spring and summer.

Deck swing has become my favorite spot

Instead, here I am in my recliner or on the deck swing dealing with sciatica pain that is made worse by bending, stretching, even sitting in a regular chair.

I can walk. In fact it feels okay to stand and walk for awhile. But any kind of bending, squatting, or regular sitting leaves me in so much pain that I cannot sleep at night.

I tried slowing down and resting, hoping that the sciatica would resolve itself as it has in the past. It hasn’t. Then I tried pushing through the pain, not wanting to admit how much it hurt. I thought that moving more might make it feel better. It didn’t.

Finally last week I attended a restful yoga class (it’s a kind of rehabilitative yoga where you use yoga props like bolsters, blankets, and blocks to allow the body to relax into the support of the props) where the slow mindful attention to my body helped me stop pushing the pain away and relax into what was. As I listened to my teacher’s careful questions and noticed what I was feeling, adjusting the poses so that I did not experience constant pain I felt tears well up in my eyes. It was a relief to stop pushing away pain and denying it’s presence and instead to simply let it be.

I have been feeling a little tender and vulnerable since yoga class, finding tears well up at unexpected times.

Thursday I went out to the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum planning to walk around a bit and find a comfortable bench somewhere to sit and contemplate the beauty of the trees and plants. I began my visit by walking through the wildflower garden. Seeing all the wonderful wildflowers I ignored the pain and couldn’t resist bending and squatting to make photographs of the beauty I saw. That night I barely slept, the pain was so severe.

I finally realized fully that I need to let go of trying to do what I want to do, accept where I am in this moment, and get on with doing what I need to do to heal.

I cancelled plans for a trip up to Grand Marais this week, and let go any plans for anything but focusing on recovering and doing whatever I need to do to hopefully heal the sciatica pain.

Woman Plans, God Laughs

This is the way of life—woman (or man) plans and God laughs. We go through life making our plans, wanting what we want, and feeling life (or God) is unfair when we don’t get what we want. We try harder and we get caught up in a planning/wanting/doing cycle, pushing away or denying anything which does not fit our desires and believing that figuring out how to get what we want is what is important, instead of embracing and being curious about what we are experiencing in the present moment.

Life often turns out to be something other than what we had in mind and sometimes delivers lessons that we didn’t know we needed to learn.

Our lives are never finished, never perfect, and never exactly what we had in mind. And this is probably good. I have learned more from my failures, faults, and foibles than anything else. My perfectly imperfect body has taught me lessons that I learn and learn again.

My life experiences have taught me that the only thing I can do is build a life of peace in the present moment. Embracing enough-ness through all the failed plans, disappointments, and surprises teaches me to find light in the darkness.

So let me accept this imperfect unsettled life, performing my humble and ordinary imperfect acts to the best of my ability. Let me accept my imperfections and embrace my humanness.

Let me become curious about my sensations in each moment and treat myself and others with kindness and acceptance.

Instead of always seeking transcendence, light, bliss, beauty, and perfection, may I become a seeker of the light and dark way, stumbling through the muck and mud of my frailty and perfect imperfection to find God in the darkness as well as the light.

May I learn to embrace an imperfect life.

May you walk in beauty. May you learn to embrace an imperfect life.

Photos in this post are from my ill-advised Minnesota Landscape Arboretum visit last week.