People and things begin to look a whole lot more perfect when you drop the notion that perfection excludes elements that challenge or cause discomfort. Such a notion of perfection is itself imperfect, in that it leaves out an important dimension of perfection.
The Japanese understand this well. There’s a saying, “The full moon is so much more beautiful with a few clouds around it.” They consider an item that has been used and broken and carefully repaired to be more perfect than when it was new and pristine, because it has more life and complex character. That spirit was captured in a famous poem by the monk Ryukan, talking about his wooden bowl:
This treasure was discovered in a bamboo thicket—
I washed the bowl in a spring and then mended it.
After morning meditation, I take my gruel in it;
At night, it serves me soup or rice.
Cracked, worn, weather-beaten, and misshapen
But still of noble stock!
The idea of Perfection can be a toxic force until one sees that what we may have taken as “flaws” are part of perfection, in people as in objects. They create the dynamic tension that keeps life interesting.