Things seem to stop working from time to time. Last night it was my car, yesterday facebook refused to work when other websites were up and running. My old old laptop refuses to play dvds (it had a temper tantrum the other day and nearly melted before my eyes).

I think there’s a message in all of this chaos. I think it’s clear that things were never meant to be perfect. That’s why you have those days when you keep dropping things, your washing gets pooed on again for the umpteenth time and your new boots get mud marks on them. ‘Tis not good my fellow citizens of the world.

But it is a reminder that your perfect self does not exist. The perfect day is a myth, the perfect parent is a joke and the perfect house is captured for a millisecond on the page of some la-de-da magazine! It is an illusion. Ooooh, picture the mirage in the desert, perfection is that oasis. Sure, it looks inviting, cool and satisfying but then you keep crawling on your hot little belly towards it and you realize that it is all in your mind.

So the ‘perfect’ does not exist. Woopee doo da day. Yay. What a relief. No one wants to be around people who think they’ve got it all together. Where’s the fun in that? You can’t be useful to them, they think they know everything and your sad little life looks even sadder in comparison to theirs. No, bring on the broken, struggling real life people with a story to tell.

“They’ve made it through the wilderness, yes they’ve made it though hoo hoo.” It is in those stories that the drama of life is played out: the highs, lows, celebrations woo hoo, sadness (tears) and general run of the mill routine stuff. That, you can relate to. So chuck out your dreams of a perfect life. Let the house be messy, let your hands drop an egg or two, let your car break down when it’s ready. Roll with the waves, go with the flow and just let it be.