So, you know these circus performers? I've mentioned them before: they wait until the lights change at the junction of Arts and Belliard and then do a little show in front of the cars while the green man is lit. What impresses me is that they are far from perfect and yet they present themselves with a flourish before a forced audience at a red light. Today I did a very smooth side step to avoid being hit with an Indian club.
In the park, where no doubt Charlotte Bronte used to cruise, looking for Mr Rochester types, a lone young man on the bandstand played what looked like a bodhran. I could neither tell if it was or if it was played well. Often rope walkers practise, their slack ropes slung from tree to tree. I like this public display of unfinishedness, with its intent to show learning in action and at the same time to show off a little.
It is something to learn from. One doesn't have to be perfect. There is a story that the word "sin" derives from an old archery term meaning to "miss one's mark". Few people aim to fail, and I expect every archer aims to hit the bull. Missing the mark therefore just means one should try again, and keep trying. The sin of missing your mark is not an offence to whatever god you hold dear. And it is not an offence to yourself. I have a feeling I may be rambling, but what I'm aiming for (oh see what I did?) is this:
Like a lot of people, I punish myself harshly for getting things wrong, or not getting things right, and fail to see often that just practising your archery in full view of the world is fine. We are all sinners... :o)