I know perfection is impossible. Yet I cannot let imperfection go. I can accept anyone else's good enough. I won a table runner in a quilt shop drawing. It is on my table now with its many imperfections and I can accept that, yet had I made it, it would not have been donated as a prize. I am learning to say, "Thank you," rather than point out my mistakes and am getting better at it, yet recognize that being so hard on myself is just my own imperfection.