Permission to Be Imperfect

And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.

The relief in this sentence is practical, not poetic. Perfection is a closed door; goodness is what happens when you stop knocking. A good morning is one where you notice the coffee is warm. A good conversation leaves something unfinished. A good attempt at kindness, clumsy and half-formed, still reaches. We exhaust ourselves measuring against an image. The moment we stop, our hands are free to do the actual work in front of us.