There are only a few instance in my life when I’ve actually thought to myself, “This is perfect.”

I remember being an undergrad and it was December in New Mexico. I worked on campus, so I took a break and walked over to the book store. It was a nice 7 minute walk and I bought a Mulled Spiced Cider in honor of the weather and the season, and because I had a minor crush on the barista who was also in my Honors class. We innocently flirted for a few minutes and I left with a smile on my face. As I walked back I was enjoying the cold weather and the anticipation of snow. I had plans for the evening and I was looking forward to spending some time with my friends. Outside of the music building, there was a tuba quartet playing Christmas carols outside, which struck me as bizarre, but made me happy since I love Christmas music.

I remember thinking, “Right at this moment, my life is perfect.” It was like I forgot all the stuff I had been worrying about and all of the good things just floated to the top.

Looking back, there were so many imperfect things going on at that time, but in that tiny surreal moment things felt perfect.

The other day my mom asked me how my birthday dinner went and I paused while I thought about my answer. The only word I could come up with was perfect. My birthday was perfect. I ate at my favorite restaurant, I spent time with my girlfriends and then the guys joined us later. People gave me everything I could have wanted for birthday presents and some things I never thought I’d get. I was able to relax and worry about life and enjoy every single aspect of the evening and feel completely loved. It was perfect.

The thing that I’ve been thinking about though, is this idea of perfection. What made my night perfect? I have a list as long as my arm of things not going well in my life, or things I’m working on changing. None of those problems went away, yet still I felt the evening was perfect.

What ever makes anything perfect? How do we achieve perfection, and is it even possible?

I think I felt like the night was perfect because I couldn’t have asked for anything else, at the end of the night I didn’t want for anything. I walked away from a very simple dinner with friends and family feeling humbled. I felt so very small in comparison to the love demonstrated by my sister and parents, by my friends, and especially by my husband.

I can’t think of one time where I’ve created something I felt was perfect. Everything I’ve done on my own has been flawed, and I’m pretty sure that’s always the way it will be. But I don’t think that means I won’t experience perfection.

There is something about generosity, friendship, and love. They all have that Divine stamp of perfection, and on September 22, so did my birthday.