Perfection

I came to a realization today: my standards are really high.  I hold everyone around me to a very high standard of excellence and ability.  I push people to do the best at what they're doing with the mentality that if you aren't doing your absolute best to your fullest potential, you're wasting your time and mine.  I strive for perfection for myself in whatever I do.  I am very detail oriented when it comes to my own creations because it is the details that make something great into something perfect.

But, by doing this I force those around me to see me as something I'm not.  I am NOT judgmental of others' abilities.  I am not so high-headed that I can't settle for less than stellar.  I do demand a higher than average level for things, but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate less...

This realization came after a few incidents of the past couple months.  My older cousin (once removed) won't sing in front of me because she thinks I'll judge or criticize her.  Honestly I won't... believe it or not, I am capable of separating and distinguishing between a trained singer and a church singer and I hold different standards for each.

Later in the summer, the same cousin almost wouldn't tell me what batter she used for the waffles I was eating.  It was really out of pure curiosity and I would not have been upset or anything had she said Aunt Jamima or whatever.  It turned out it was Bisquick, a perfectly legitimate and deliciously simple boxed flour product that makes wonderful pancakes and dinner rolls.  I think she did these things because when I talk about the choirs at my school or the food I make, I get rather intense about how the singers are perfectly in tune and the ingredients I use must be wonderful and fresh.  That doesn't mean that everything has to be perfect throughout my life... that would be crazy.

I'm at my grandfather's house writing this because a few minutes ago he asked me if I could eat a boxed chicken and mushroom lasagna for dinner tonight.  I replied, "well yeah, that sounds tasty."  It's really ok... I'm not trying to make people feel the need to overdo everything.  I like to cook fresh, but that doesn't mean I won't eat a boxed meal...every once in a while.

For the record, I love Aunt Jamima.  I think Uncle Ben's minute rice is delicious.  I won't eat fast food on principal, but the burgers still call to me when I pass by.  You don't have to be perfect for me.  My standards for perfection are more for myself than for anyone else...

Love

"They ask me how I know its love. I tell them if I knew how to describe it, it wouldn't be love."

--@TeensInLove on Twitter

So all of my posts recently have been on the topic of love.  Obviously this is something that has been on my mind and which I wish to explore.

How do you know if you love someone?  The above quote I almost glanced over.  Instead, I went back and actually read it.  It not only made sense, but it made me feel substantially better about my own situation.  I could not answer the question "how do you know you love him?" because I can't answer it.  It is impossible to describe my emotions or my feelings with the current collection of words with which English has provided me.  Something like 750000 words just don't cut it.

I am hard-pressed to think of an occasion where it becomes impossible to describe something as what it is.  Love is so intense and powerful and pure that it's inherently indescribable.  How do you describe perfection?

Question for you as readers: can you describe love? can you describe what makes it love?  Please comment.