I’m a big fan of perfection.
I understand it’s essentially impossible for things to be perfect, but that sure hasn’t stopped me from trying. Unfortunately, in an imperfect world, my “just right” mentality translates into a lot of late nights, eraser shavings and self-declarations of “group project leader.” For the sanity of myself and others, I’ve - thankfully - improved at relinquishing control, at letting go, at (frankly) grinning and bearing it. Not surprisingly, when you put in a fair amount of effort, a seemingly flawed final product is still pretty darn good.
Yet, I often can’t see the pretty darn good. Perceived failure is a vicious cycle.
I discovered a small collection of adult coloring pages a few years ago, after Googling “ways to manage stress” during a bout of academic-induced panic. I printed out a blank mandala (which is now my favorite style of page to color) and pulled out a 24-pack of Crayola colored pencils, delicately filling in the shapes with bright, sunshine-y shades. The sensation of relief that washed over me was nothing short of magic - even when a rich purple pencil collided with a warm pastel shade of pink. My mandala was no longer perfect, but I didn’t care. I was content to sprawl out on my bedspread, choosing whatever color I thought was fit, working my way from the outside of the design in. For the first time in so long, I was content with my imperfect project.
Why do I love to color?
Coloring pages have helped me to see the pretty darn good. There are no rules, no right and wrong, no standard of merit. The ink that leaked over the lines is barely visible. The clashing color combination is still beautiful. The seemingly flawed final product is still pretty darn good. When I color, my internal struggle with perfection goes out the window, even if it only stays out there for a few minutes, or a few hours. At any given moment, no matter how defeated I'm feeling, I know I can always turn to a fresh coloring page, and be proud of what I create, no matter how the final product appears.
