My childhood friend likes to say that he can’t do many of the things that he once did when he was younger: hit a 90 mph baseball, slalom on the Black runs at Alta, or wakeboard board easily at Lake Powell.
Funny thing is, I don’t remember him doing any of those things when he was younger. And it’s not just my memory, either.
No doubt we don’t remember things precisely from our younger years. All memories are distorted, experts say. But were we ever as talented, as skilled or as prolific as we remember?
Maybe. Or maybe we just want to cover up our flaws.
Not the Japanese. On a recent trip to Japan, I saw many examples of the Japanese aesthetic of “wabi-sabi,” which is finding beauty in imperfections.
Japanese “kintsugi” goes even further by intentionally highlighting a crack in a vase or a tear in a jacket by adding a colorful decoration. In other words, a crack or a tear is highlighted rather than hidden.
Not exactly like distressed jeans since they are torn for effect rather than repaired to show they aren’t perfect. But hey, torn can be a fashion statement even in the USA.
Beyond fashion, how does the biblical admonition to “be ye therefore perfect” square up with wabi-sabi—the beauty of imperfection?
Maybe the King James translators — credited with Jesus’s statement about perfection — got it wrong in translation. Some modern-day translators say that the word “perfect” should have instead been translated as “complete.” A far different meaning.
As we age, we become in some ways a little less “perfect” but a little more complete. We see things differently, more holistically, more completely.
We may not be able to do some things we could do when younger — like walking without shuffling, seeing without glasses, or hearing without aids behind our ears. But perhaps we’ve already been able to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes, see deeply what’s meant even if not said, and even listen with a “third ear.” These “new” attributes make us more human, more well-rounded, more complete.
I asked another childhood friend who’s experienced a lot of hardship in her life about her optimistic outlook. Some things have not worked out for her as expected, including the deaths of several of her sons due to a rare immune deficiency.
As parents, we were excited when our first daughter was born. She was beautiful and won the ‘prettiest baby’ award at a local event in town. But as she got older, we could tell that she had a significant learning disability. During her adolescent years, she was left out of typical teen activities and was not always treated well by others.
But with the help of job coaches, friends, and various professionals, she was able to get a driver’s license and has been able to keep a job for the school district during the past 30 years.
Because of her gumption and perseverance, she is able to live independently, participate actively in church as a nursery leader and have a rich social life with friends and work colleagues. In fact, many people tell me that she is the “life of the party” whenever she attends one.
When visiting her, I often have people come up and tell me how much they love my daughter. She is kind and honest (some might say ‘blunt’), and would do anything for anybody.
Imperfect? There are some things she cannot do and others which she cannot do well. But who’s to say that in the race to become a “complete human,” she isn’t out front and pulling away?
No, not imperfect. She’s simply a delight!
Aging is often described as a slow decline, a loss of physical and mental capabilities, along with the body’s and the mind’s decay. This biology of “senescence” is labeled as “time-related deterioration of those faculties necessary for survival.”
The psychologist Erik Erikson said that if we played our cards right, in later life we develop generosity and integrity that occur at no other time in our lives and in no other way.
While “time marches on,” perhaps, so too do those attributes which prepare us to give more to others as we age and cover our broken or torn parts while making us whole and complete.