Where to begin: Life as my muse

“Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it’s better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.” ― Marilyn Monroe

When I was a kid, I felt ripped off because the red maple leaf on Canada’s flag was nowhere to be found where I lived. I’d try to find any leaf that looked remotely the same – in rural northern Alberta.

One time my mom was talking about some maple trees in our yard and I questioned her because clearly they weren’t maples because the leaf shape was totally different. Turns out it was a maple, just a different kind. I felt even more ripped off.

The maple leaf shape from our flag is as a symbol after all supposed to be part of our Canadian identity, but for me it pretty much didn’t exist.

This fall – in my new eastern home city – maple leaves are found everywhere. I smile now at my ridiculousness, but then it continues…

So, now with abundance I’m trying to find the “perfect” red maple leaf to send my niece in Alberta. (You know to save her from my ridiculous constant search as a kid.)

Of course I can’t find that “perfect” leaf. They often get spots, are asymmetrical or are crumbling.

Apparently a ridiculously stubborn child makes for a ridiculously stubborn adult.

I kind of like the idea though as a metaphor representing a symbol for identity.

This week I participated in the national conference call to prep this year’s Accreditation in Public Relations candidates for exams coming up later this month. Later on the same day, our local CPRS chapter hosted an open house to introduce our roles as the new board – an event that had a huge student turnout.

In one day, I spoke with I don’t even know how many people about my path including my work and both my education and accreditation. It’s been far from easy and certainly far from perfect.

My experience, as part of my identity would be just as imperfect as those leaves.

My education leaf probably would be six times bigger than the accreditation leaf, just because it had all those extra growing seasons, but the growing seasons for both didn’t have much sun or rain since I was dealing with some other challenges at the same time.

They’d both be ugly, spotted, asymmetrical and crumbling because there were times when I was going through both of those processes that I doubted myself and I’m sure others doubted me. (There’s a prodigal child comment that a friend made that comes to mind.)

Those leaves may have already fallen but I still like looking at them, no matter how ugly. To me they still look good and I am proud of them.

It’s almost as though, that the feeling of being ripped off as a kid grew into a healthy longing feeling. One that made me start feeling no matter what the experience it is my own.

There’s nothing more perfect than that, especially since there are way more leaves up in that tree to look forward to. Plus then, there’s also next year’s growing season.