No Exclusions Apply

I recently purchased a Valentine’s Day decoration. Not particularly noteworthy, unless you consider that it’s almost March. So here’s the story: about a month ago, I visited one of my favorite stores, and I saw a beautiful wreath. It was made of red and ivory glass hearts for Valentine’s Day – the hearts had a pearly iridescence, and the edges were trimmed in glitter. I loved it, but I didn’t buy it because it was expensive, and I’m a frugal single mom. So I admired it, but I left it in the store. Yesterday I went into that store again to see what Easter decorations they had, and there it was, on a rack all alone. The rack was marked 50% off, and it was the only Valentine’s Day decoration that remained. It was breathtaking, as it was the first time that I saw it. A salesgirl saw me admiring it. “Are you ready to check out?” she asked. To my surprise, I said yes. I inquired about the return policy. She assured me that if I changed my mind, I could return it. So I bought it.

I brought the wreath home and laid it on the dining room table. I walked by it several times and thought about how pretty it was, and what a shame that I’d have to return it. What would I do with a Valentine’s Day decoration now, after all? Stick it in the garage for nine months? But I liked looking at it, so I thought maybe I could find a place for it. It might look lovely hanging in my downstairs hallway, I thought. It is a shame to leave it on the table.

So I hung it up. It’s heavy and made of fragile glass, so I had to make quite a few holes in the wall to hang it securely. As I hung it, I thought, when I return it, I’ll have to have something else ready to hang to cover all these holes.

When you stand in front of the wreath and look at it straight on, it’s gorgeous. But when you walk in my front door, the first thing you see is a side view of the wreath. From the side, it’s not so pretty – you can see the cheap foam wreath behind the glass hearts that the artist was trying to hide. I want to hide it, too, because I’m a perfectionist. I don’t like to see the ugly, behind the scenes part of things; I like to see the pretty part. I want to believe that the pretty part is the only part that exists.

As a writer, I know that perfection is crippling. If you try to edit your work to perfection, you’ll never publish anything. And yet, I still try to avoid imperfection. I should know better.

And so I looked at the wreath straight on – spectacular. And then I looked at it from the side. Ugh. And then I stood in front of it for a while and noticed that even straight on, it’s not perfect. Some of the glass hearts have rough edges. Some of them have dark spots or slight cracks. The perfectionist in me winced and thought, I must take this down, return it and replace it with something that looks perfect from every angle. But I loved it, despite its imperfections. 

The reason I decided to hang it, although Valentine’s Day is over, is that it is covered with hearts, and it symbolizes love. One of my goals for the new year is love. To love more freely, and more generously – to love everyone, not just the lovable people. Bob Goff says we are to love everybody, always, and I agree. This wreath is a physical reminder to me that everything I do should be done in love, and everybody I encounter should be met with love.

This wreath is imperfect; it has some rough edges. This wreath is magnificent sometimes – if you view it from the right angle – but other times, it’s a mess. Kind of like me. Kind of like everyone. Everyone that I’m supposed to love, always – no matter if they are imperfect or if they have some rough edges.

I will keep this wreath, and I will leave it hanging all year round. It doesn’t necessarily match my décor, but maybe it doesn’t have to. Maybe it isn’t about what it looks like – maybe it’s about who it reminds me to be.

I am messy. I am imperfect. As much as I try to hide my flaws, sometimes, you’re going to see them. Sometimes, I’m going to look less than my best. Sometimes I’m going to behave less than my best. Sometimes, like this lone wreath after Valentine’s Day, I feel picked over and passed on – left behind, hanging all by myself. But I saw the beauty in this wreath. I bought it and gave it a home. I let it inspire me, despite its imperfections. I hope that despite my shortcomings, I can inspire people, too. And so this wreath will hang in my hallway as a constant reminder to love everybody, always, despite their imperfections, just as I hope that I will be loved despite mine. 

Love isn’t just for February. It’s for every day, and everybody.

Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. - Thomas Merton