Lisha Cassibo has been writing for the Uxbridge Cosmos for two years, both as a freelancer and as a columnist. She has also written for several parenting magazines both here in Canada and for English publications in Switzerland. She graduated from Carleton University with an honours degree in Journalism and English Literature. She lives with her family in Sunderland.
Practice makes perfect
The indefatigable pursuit of an unattainable Perfection, even though it consist in nothing more than in the pounding of an old piano, is what alone gives meaning to our lives on this unavailing star. - Logan Pearsall Smith - American essayist
I have a thing for books of quotations, and as I sat visiting at a friend's house at the weekend, I couldn't help but thumb through one he had sitting out on the mantel of his fireplace. I chanced across the one mentioned above, and I was sure that Smith had me in mind when he wrote this, long before I was even born. Not so much the bit about meaning and lives and the somewhat desolate comment regarding our planet, but more the bit about the piano and perfection.
You see, there are two words in the English language that I loathe, one being “should” (why is a subject for another time) and “perfect”. Want to know how to really get me going? Use them in the same sentence - “I should be able to (insert action here) perfectly!” You'll get a pep talk that would put Tony Robbins to shame. Actually, I think that's what you're about to get here...
I have heard this incessantly over the years as a piano teacher, especially leading up to recital time. I am holding my recital this Sunday, and so the weeks past have been filled with this exact refrain.
”I can't be in the recital, Lisha, I should be able to play this piece perfectly,” wails a student while sitting at an instrument that apparently demands it be played flawlessly.
Yeah. Good luck with that. Firstly, your parents paid a lot of money for you to be able to play this piece, and you're gonna play it in front of a crowd of people who will, for the most part, not know whether you played it note for note as Mozart wrote it, or took artistic licence and botched the entire thing. Heck, if it sounds good, I may not even notice! (I had that happen once - one student's so-called screw-up turned into a beautiful version of a piece no one had ever heard the likes of. Or will again.)
But I digress.
Secondly, let's talk about this whole notion of “perfect.”
It's never been a strong word in my vocabulary. My parents never demanded perfection of me, it was always “do your best.”
“I didn't get perfect on my algebra quiz!” (one half of my overachiever brain knew that would never happen in this lifetime, the other half wanted the A+).
“Did you do your best?”
“Uh huh.” (I even cheated and it didn't help.)
“That's all that matters.”
Seriously, though. What is perfection? What is this state that religion, society, education, whoever, tries to tell us we really ought to attain? Yet turn around in the same breath and annouce “But nobody's perfect!”
Is perfection only that which is aesthetically pleasing to us? My four-year old's finger painting may not be as refined as a Monet, but I think it every bit as beautiful. And perfect. My husband may cook a meal that tantalizes and satistifies a palate in every way imaginable, but a simple, homecooked (and in my case, not burned) meal, eaten when one is hungry, is just as tasty. And perfect. I prefer listening to Chopin rather than Marilyn Manson, but I am sure that even his (ahem) music is just as satisfying to some ears. And perfect.
I am believing more and more every day that perfection is not an unattainable, as mentioned in the quote above, but is in what goes on every day. Is in what makes up every individual at any given moment. Sure, we all have things about ourselves and our circumstances that we would like to change, but the realities of all of them ever happening? Let's be real. Let's stop putting that kind of pressure on ourselves, and let ourselves be. Just BE. Perfect.
To say that something is perfect after the fact does quite nicely. It sums up a satisfaction that comes with a job well done, a look well presented, an event well executed. But to expect something to be perfect beforehand is just courting disaster. Have you ever seen a Bridezilla episode where everything went swimmingly well? I rest my case.
So to all my students, and any other students out there who are playing in recitals, getting ready for exams, or just embarking on the great adventure of life, I say: please don't try to be perfect. You already are. Practice.(Oh please, dear God, practice!!!), yes. Study. Work. Play. Whatever it is, just do your best. You really can't expect any more from yourself, or the universe.
That's all that matters.
