A couple of days ago, I was trying to attach bubble wrap to the inside of the motorhome's windshield. I thought it was a brilliant way to insulate the front windows and still get plenty of natural light. I squirted the windows with a vinegar and water mixture and then stuck pieces of large bubble wrap on the surface of the windows.
The next morning, all the bubble wrap lay crumpled on the dash. I taped the sheets together, thinking it would add strength, and crawled back into the small space between the dash and the windshield and put them back up. Once again, it all fell. I resorted to packing tape and then Alien tape, which supposedly sticks to any surface, all to no avail.
This morning, the bubble wrap lies in a wad on the dash. I might leave it like that—or at least give my brilliant idea some time to simmer until another dash of inspiration and motivation appears on the scene. According to Albert Einstein, I still have 94 failed attempts left before I am successful.
Do-overs, or revisions, are a big part of my life. I used to want everything to be perfect—the perfect performance, the perfect hair and skin, the perfect home. Now I know better. What is, is already perfect.
I have tried 99 times and have failed, but on the 100th time came success.” — Albert Einstein.
As I was sitting on the dash, unsticking the bubble wrap from itself, I noticed two tiny feet hanging in mid-air from the bird feeder. It was the chipmunk that lives under our deck and keeps an eye on the place when we’re not here. He thought I couldn’t see him, but his legs gave him away. His core strength impressed me—filling his cheeks while doing several pull-ups and leg lifts.
Then I noticed a few little birds taking a bath—not in the birdbath but on the cover of our inflatable hot tub. The cover isn’t made for holding water, and I try to keep it cleaned off, but the little birds were having such a good time, that I decided not to disturb them.
As I sit at my computer this morning, there are dirty dishes in the sink, clothes piled on top of guitar cases, and a wad of bubble wrap on the dash. Life is messy and at its very best, beautifully imperfect. For this, I am grateful.
A few weeks ago, a friend shared a story about the time her daughter, who has autism, got up in the early morning while everyone else was sleeping and decorated the Christmas tree. She hung socks, pieces of paper, and anything else she could find on the tree. I’m sure it wasn’t what her mom had in mind. Instead, she gave them all an unexpected gift that keeps giving every time the story is told.
This time of year, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed by trying to get everything right—the food, the presents, the celebrations. But there is no such thing.
I never will get everything done, but bring it on, I’ll take it as it comes. If I can’t find a way, tomorrow’s another day, and that’s one less thing on my mind.
ONE LESS THING lyric video