I did something badly and enjoyed it anyway

Dear Delyara, I think that healed me more than doing it well would have. No performance. No mastery. No becoming impressive through the thing. Just clumsy enjoyment. I forget how much freedom lives there — in being imperfect without turning the imperfection into shame. To make something unevenly, slowly, without proof attached, and still feel glad I touched it at all. This week I had that. It felt almost innocent.