In life, as in competition, the details make the difference. My granddaughter Abby Henley rides barrel races. There are so many things that creep up your score. Come in a little too hot on the first barrel and you’ll swing wide. Lean in and you’ll bump it over. Lean too far back and you’ll pull your horse off her speed. A foot slips from a stirrup. Too cautious. Too aggressive. They can all cost you.
But some nights, you and your horse are in beautiful harmony. She senses your directions before you realize you even thought them. The race is clean, almost effortless. Everything is almost perfect with the world.
Oh how we live for those moments. Oh how we savor them when they happen. Oh how they live in our memories. The almost perfect ride. The almost perfect performance. The almost perfect words. The almost perfect evening with friends.
That’s the thing about perfection. We can’t ever achieve it. But, dammit, there’s something beautiful in the pursuit of it, isn’t there? Working together, laughing together, believing in each other, never giving up. Working on the little things. Savoring them. That’s about as close to perfect as it gets.