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Perfection is actually the death of creativity. Every idea I have about the perfect way that things need to happen severs me from actual possibility. Perfection is a myth.

Perfectionism is actually lazy. The more I try to needle the situation to meet my outdated ideas, the less I have to converse with reality. The actual moment. What it’s offering. Divine perfection is messy, and evolving, and dancing. It’s a conversation with talking and listening.