WHEN brilliant French sculptor Auguste Rodin was near the end of his life, a friend found him weeping in his studio next to a statue he had completed.
The friend could not comprehend the old man’s grief and, pointing to the statue, said: “But it’s perfect!”
“I think so too and that is why I am weeping,” Rodin said. He had realised his artistry could take him no further in life.
The hardest part of attaining perfection is finding something to do for an encore.
But, of course, it should not be a problem for any of us. We’re all imperfect and it’s an imperfect world. We could all be much happier if we accepted our lot.
The average child, in innocence and acceptance of life, laughs about 400 times a day, but adults manage only 15 guffaws. One reason could be that we adults are so busy trying to make our lives happy that we lose sight of the delights of imperfection.