"Perfect" is subjective. Everyone has their own idea of what constitutes perfect and, often, it’s different for various situations. I think, though, that everyone has a fairly-well defined concept of "perfect".
No drama, no conflict, no damage, no missteps. Does that sound perfect to you? Not to me. To me, that sounds boring. I don’t think I could live a happy life where things didn’t EVER go wrong. The bottom line is that when bad things happen, that’s when you reevaluate, adapt and change. If nothing ever went bad, there would never be any motivation to change, only stagnation and that’s pretty far from perfect I think.
I’ve know people who had the stereotypical perfect life and they were miserable in it. I’ve had situations that were perceived as perfect, but made me miserable because there was nothing interesting going on.
I live an interesting life. Things happen regularly that are unusual or even downright bizarre, but I wouldn’t change that even if I could. I thrive on random occurrances, even if they are a little embarassing or inconvenient.
I’m prone to telling people that I’m not happy unless I have something to complain about. It’s absolutely true. The rare occassions where things are going so well that I actually have nothing to complain about, I complain about how disconcerting it is that nothing has gone wrong in a while and how I’m waiting for the bad to happen. I kid you not. There are plenty of people who can attest to this.
So what is perfect? For me, perfect is understandable and makes sense. Perfect is a moment in time where everything falls into place and brings with it a feeling of completion. Perfect is the moment just before a first kiss when you’re still quivering with anticipation. It’s the moment just after completing a long, difficult project when you take a deep breath and say "I did it" before anyone else can say a word. Perfect is having a secret or, better yet, an in-joke that comes up in a broader conversation and the perfect moment is the knowing smile, nod or wink that the two of you share quiely, without anyone else noticing.
Perfect is small and fleeting. It can’t be captured, only stumbled upon. If you look for it, you’ll spend your life chasing rainbows, but if you stay alert, you’ll find it regularly, and often where you least expect it.
I think that’s the problem. So many people are pursuing an ideal of perfection that not only does not, but cannot exist. They’re looking for something that perhaps fits their definition of perfection, but that would turn out to be exceedingly flawed if they ever happened to find it. For these people, the perfect house would never need repairs, instead of having the right number of rooms, a beautiful lawn and low energy costs. For these people, the perfect mate would never do anything annoying, would always have the ability to read minds and would never create or allow conflict within the relationship. For these people, the perfect children wouldn’t have minds of their own, they would do everything their parents told them and would never misbehave.
I wonder how many people truly believe that that concept of perfect actually exists in reality. Far too many certainly believe in the possibility, enough so that they make themselves miserable for not having achieved perfection on any of those fronts. I have to wonder whether or not they’re missing out on the perfect moments in the search for something greater than themselves.
While I look for perfection in small ways, or, more accurately, look for more perfection or to fill the gaps, I still find comfort in the perfect moments as they come. Fleeting though they may be, they do come often enough to remind me that perfection can and does exist, if only in small ways.