This morning in yoga class, I had an epiphany. As I held my breath trying to not fall out of crow pose, I remembered when I first started doing yoga six years ago I couldn't hold a downward dog without my arms furious trembling on the verge of collapse. Since then I've pushed myself to practice yoga, train my body, and improve not only my flexibility, balance, and strength, but also in so many other areas of my life.

I realized perfection is boring. What is your purpose in life if you already have everything? What's the fun in that? After you peak, don't you fall? Why would you ever want to actually peak?

I realize life is truly about growth. We strive for perfection, but it's not the perfection that even matters, because when we have it we will take it for granted. It's the imperfection, and struggle to be better in whatever aspect we focus on. It's the journey, the painful climb that allows us to grow, accomplish a little at a time, and from that, create happiness for ourselves.

Did I just figure out the meaning of life?