Embrace Imperfection

I have a saying, or perhaps a mantra, that I like to repeat to myself: “High hopes, low expectations”. I think I could do a whole stand up comedy routine about this subject. Some people, I suspect, go through life feeling disappointed for the simple reason that they expect too much. Whether in their relationships, careers, or personal lives, they set themselves up for constant disappointment by setting their expectations far too high.

If you happen to know me in real life, you might be sick of hearing me say this, and for that I apologize. For me at least, since I started repeating this mantra to myself, I have found that I am rarely disappointed. It’s great when things go well, but having expectations that all things will go your way in life is a recipe for misery.

This is hardly a new idea, if anything it’s simply a reframing of some ancient ideas that you’ll find in practically all religious and philosophical texts going back thousands of years. The Stoics, for example, believed that the key to happiness was to accept that which you cannot change. The Buddhists, meanwhile, believe that suffering is caused by attachment to things that are impermanent. In other words, if you can learn to let go of your expectations, you’ll be a lot happier.

I think that’s a pretty good message to take to heart. It’s not about being disengaged, disinterested, or apathetic. Rather, it’s just a matter of being realistic and accepting that most of life is mundane, and that’s okay. Furthermore, everything and everyone is imperfect. The entire world as we know it is in a constant state of disrepair, degredation, decomposition, and entropy. It’s a miracle that anything works at all, and yet here we are. Every day is a gift, and we should be grateful for it.

Falling into negative thought patters is so incredibly easy, but reframing our expectations allows us to get through the day without sweating the small (or big) stuff.

I also tend to think imperfections are what make life interesting. A big part of the reason why I don’t like digital photography is that it’s too perfect. Modern cameras are so good at capturing high quality images that they look sterile, boring, and lifeless. Analogue photography, on the other hand, is full of imperfections. The film grain, the light leaks, the dust, the scratches, the imperfections in the lens, and so on, all add up to create a unique image that is full of character. Some people are obsessed with vintage lenses or vinyl records for this very reason (including myself, though I haven’t yet taken the plunge into vinyl).

There’s a real charm and beauty in imperfection. It’s what makes us human, and every human is perfectly imperfect. We all have our flaws, our quirks, our idiosyncracies, and our baggage.

In the context of modern dating, I think a big reason why so many people are lonely and unhappy is because they have unrealistic expectations. People want a partner who ticks all their boxes, and over time their list of requirements grows, while their pool of potential partners shrinks. It’s certainly fine to have standards and hard limits, but anecdotally it seems like some people are looking for a unicorn they will never find.

I like vintage cameras because they have character. A manual camera from the 1970s has scratches, scrapes, dust, and signs of wear that show it was previously loved. I like vintage lenses because the flaws produce beautiful images that are unique and poorly replicated with digital filters. There’s also a real joy in using a manual camera, because it forces you to slow down and think about the image you’re capturing. It’s a more deliberate process, and I think that’s a good metaphor for life. It can take weeks or months to finish a roll of film, and then you have to wait for the film to be developed. It’s a slow process, but it’s rewarding when you get the results back.

Sometimes I shoot a roll of film and every shot is trash, but the process is still fun.