This is the reduced essence of a recent conversation with my husband, because my Jew/Julia project is only beginning to take shape in my mind, inasmuch as something can take shape when it’s a step by step recounting of a journey, from beginning to end.

I can’t commit to cooking the whole book. I simply will not be tossing a live lobster into a pot of boiling water, for any number of reasons, some of which predated my arrival in Judaism.  (It’s tempting to think that Judaism is dramatically changing the way I live my life in EVERY POSSIBLE WAY, but I had a pretty strong set of principles even beforehand.  I wouldn’t cook a live animal then, and I won’t now.)   I will very likely NOT be mastering the art of French cooking in the meticulous and complete way that Julie Powell did.

That’s okay, because that was her journey, and this is mine.  Lucky for me that this is a by-design imperfect one, because I have a penchant for being discouraged by the prospect of imperfection.  Having assumed at the outset that I will simply not be able to achieve perfection allows me to operate with seemingly boundless freedom (except for the limitations provided by kashrut, from whence all imperfections AND limitations come.)  Perfection is impossible, therefore I cannot fail; failure is impossible, so I am compelled to experience the journey fully.  (How perfectly this meshes with the last post, on mindfulness and its impact on experience.)

I am also not a perfect expert on anything – not on kashrut, not on Judaism, not on food, cooking or France.  What I have going for me is room for improvement.  When I think about the things I read, the people I find most interesting are the ones who admit, when necessary, that they have no idea what they’re doing.  I find, like them, that I may start a job completely bewildered and come out with my head pointing up, and this is the first step.  I will not only get my bearings, but learn something in the process, so help me.

No one likes a know-it-all anyway.  What I don’t know, I’ll figure out, and you’ll learn it with me.  What I don’t learn, perhaps you will teach me.  At some point, I’ll have exhausted Mastering the Art of French Cooking, though that should take a while.  At that point, what you and I together don’t know, the library, the Internet, other people and the world at large will teach us.

We each can commit only to being the best person we can be, each day.  My hope, and my goal, is that each day is my best day.  I’m lucky that since perfection is unattainable, I will always have a goal.