jade, over at The Chrysanthemum and The Sword, wrote an interesting post – well, I find that many of the posts she writes are particularly interesting.
Anyway, she talked about “The Perfect Slave,” and “The Perfect Master.”
Perfection has honestly never been that appealing to me.
I think, for one thing, that I would find perfection in a slave somewhat intimidating.
If, for instance, you’re a perfect slave but I find a flaw – I don’t like the way you fold my towels or the food you cook – then doesn’t that rather imply the flaw is with me?
If you’re perfect, then I have to be perfect, too.
And I am not perfect, nor do I aspire to be.
I aspire to be many things, a kind person, a good leader, a wise dominant, but I do not aspire to be perfect.
Perfection is so confining. I suspect it’s like the house in which Alice finds herself in Wonderland, after she eats the cake or drinks the potion, whichever it is, and begins to grow.
The walls confine her and hold her, and she becomes more and more uncomfortable as she does.
Perfection must be like that, don’t you think? If I have to be perfect, it’s got to be like being on 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year.
Perfection seems so one-dimensional, too. A flat surface, one without much depth or texture. If you’re perfect, you can’t really step out of that comfort zone, can’t really take a risk, can’t really try something new because if it doesn’t work out, well, I might not be perfect.
Perfection is not very lovable, either.
I believe that a slave wants to be proud of the person whom they serve, they want to believe that their Master is extraordinary, maybe even that they are the perfect Master for them.
But if you believe I am perfect, then I have to believe that you are not very discerning, that you are unwilling to see me with clear eyes and, also disturbingly, because that tells me that I cannot trust you to tell me the truth.
To be clear, I would not care for a slave who made it a point to comment on and elaborate on my faults. That would not go over well.
However, if I’m doing something that is a bad idea, or something that might result in a truly bad outcome, I expect that my slave will tell me that. I believe that the slave’s highest purpose is to be my sounding board, be my eyes and ears and hands and heart in ways which I cannot be them for myself.
And if I have to be perfect, too, then that means you can’t do that because I can’t be less than perfect, if I have to have a perfect slave.
You certainly can’t be more perfect than I am, right?
That would mean that you were not really perfect, right?