Driving
home from the gym this morning, I applied the brakes at a stoplight, and, for
some reason, it seemed like I did it perfectly. It felt like I couldn’t have braked
any better, like I was a first-class user of brakes. I felt like a prizewinner
among drivers, a champion of the brake pedal. A few minutes later, I saw a tree
limb shake in a wind, and it appeared to shake in a superb way. The shaking somehow
had an appearance of refinement and finesse. It seemed like the crème de la crème of branch shakings. Then, a few blocks down the road, I
made a wrong turn, but – you guessed it – the thought came to me that I made
that mistake in a flawless manner. I goofed, but in a great and perfect way. It
was a blunder, but it seemed to be a beautiful one.
Turning
into our driveway, I wondered: Is perfection
everywhere, if we look carefully
enough?
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