There would be no music if high C were the only note,
no art if spectrum red were the only color,
no joy in pleasure if pleasure were the only feeling -- and paradoxically,
there would be no perfection without imperfection.
What does that mean to me? Well, it means that I don't have to be perfect.
All I have to do is grow at a pace natural to me --
and that is all I have a right to expect of others.
If I can remember these truths, then love -- real love,
as opposed to drunken sentimentality -- is finally within reach.
It is not stupid to accept myself and others complete with our imperfections.
It would be stupid not to.
Give me the courage to be imperfect.
H O W = Honesty, Open-mindedness, Willingness.
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