An elderly Chinese woman had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a pole, which she carried across her neck. One of the pots had a crack in it while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water, at the end of the long walk from the stream to the house, the cracked pot arrived only half full.My point here is that, in each one of us there is imperfection. No matter how hard we try to make things better. In my case, I am too frank and most of the times I say it bluntly without knowing that I've hurt the ones near me and they will all presume I am so bad. Honestly, I stand to what I say and because I am that kind of person, others would appreciate my big mouth only because it has opened a big door of what is reality all about.
For a full two years this went on daily, with the woman bringing home only one and a half pots of water. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it could only do half of what it had been made to do.
After 2 years of what it perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke to the woman one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house." The old woman smiled, "Did you notice that there are flowers on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side?" "That's because I have always known about your flaw, so I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you water them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house."
My Teddy would always tell me I am bad in a way for others but I am actually telling them to grow up. It would be easier to hear it from someone you know that from someone whom you don't know and you've heard them talking about you.
I'm sharing you this because I thought you might want to share it to some people you know as well. My real mother would always tell me, "Everyone is beautiful in some other ways and when collected together, it is the thing that makes the world round." I call this "Hey! Don't look at me. Look at yourself."