Perfection Is Overrated

A few weeks ago, I attended a reading at Barnes & Noble for Violin Dreams, the latest book by Arnold Steinhardt, first violinist of the renowned Guarneri Quartet. When asked during the Q&A about advances in recording technology, Steinhardt replied that while digital technology enabled the production of flawless recordings, in his opinion, they were lacking in emotion and personality.

He then related an anecdote about Pablo Casals, the great cellist, who was asked by the sound engineer during a recording session to redo a section where the intonation had been a little off. Casals replied indignantly: “But that’s the way I played it!”

As someone who hears the constant voice of self-criticism, I was struck with admiration for Casal’s integrity. How many of us have such loyalty to “imperfect” reality that we would refuse the opportunity for a do-over? Most of us are much more fascinated with achieving perfection – a life free from flaws, mishaps and mistakes.

A QUESTIONABLE QUEST
Performing artists and athletes spend hours practicing their craft or sport, striving to ensure a “perfect” performance. In the workplace, we’re intent on presenting an unimpeachable front to colleagues and superiors, and legions of brides spend outrageous sums to create the ideal wedding day.

But what is perfection exactly -- and how do we know when we’ve achieved it? Is it possible that the eternal pursuit of perfection could actually spell eternal dissatisfaction? What can’t we simply have Casal’s attitude of appreciation for “the way we played it”?

As a pianist, many times after a piano performance that I thought went well -- no obvious wrong notes, no memory slips – I’ve gotten a lackluster response from the audience. Other times, when I played with more abandon and errant notes abounded, I’ve gotten raves. Perhaps you’ve been to a dance performance where one of the dancers had faultless technique and yet it was the one with less orthodox form whose uninhibited energy and passion captured your attention. Even in fashion magazines where airbrushed perfection reigns, some of the most successful models have been the ones with prominent “flaws” -- Cindy Crawford’s mole, Lauren Hutton’s gap-toothed smile. Makes you wonder whether absolute perfection isn’t actually a little boring.

A MOVING TARGET
Of course, this isn’t to say that we shouldn’t seek to improve and achieve our best. But in this age of technical wizardry and surgical advancements, the standards of perfection are constantly changing, increasingly rigorous and deceptively attainable – heightening our stress and anxiety from fear of making mistakes or appearing less than perfect.

When you find yourself more focused on hiding your blemishes than enjoying your life, you might keep these points in mind:

• Keep it real. For many of us, perfection equates with receiving approval and being liked and admired (or at least not annoying anyone): “If I’m perfect, everyone will love me.” But while people may be fascinated and lured by the promise of perfection, they won’t necessarily be comfortable in its proximity. As humans, we stumble and fall, blurt out inappropriate comments. It’s what makes us authentic and not Stepford Wives. And when we see that others do the same, we feel a greater connection with them than we would if they never screwed up.

The instructor of the popular cardio kickboxing class at my gym is seemingly perfect – sculpted abs, impossibly high kicks and indefatigable energy. But every once in awhile, she trips over her words or flubs up the routine and when she acknowledges it with a smile, it only serves to strengthen her bond with the class.

• Appreciate your mistakes. Ironically, traveling the path toward perceived perfection means experiencing glaring imperfection. If we’re learning a foreign language, it’s humbling to be constantly corrected – as an adult, aren’t we beyond making mistakes? Besides, it’s been three weeks, shouldn’t I speak as well as a native by now? (Funny, the unreasonable expectations we bring along with this quest for perfection.)

But paradoxically, it is our fear of appearing foolish that impedes us. Why not emulate young children, who learn quickly, without inhibition or self-doubt, because they’re more caught up in the joy of self-expression and learning new skills than they are in the fear of making a mistake. After all, mistakes serve to help us appreciate perfect execution all the more.

• Is it perfect yet? Regardless of how far we’ve come, we maintain our insistence that, “No, if only it were like this, then it would be perfect.” Where did we get our notions of perfection anyway – is it possible that we’ve been conditioned by society and media into a false belief that there is universal agreement when, in fact, what appears perfect to me may be far from it for you?

Is the “perfect” dinner party the one with the exquisite flower arrangements, carefully matched settings and elaborate desserts, or the one with nonstop laughter? Do you really want to fixate on some arguable attainment of perfection when there’s no definitive consensus on what that is?

So when you’re beating yourself up because things are not going the way you think they should, try coming up with your own definition of perfection. Who’s to say you can’t pronounce things perfect just as they are – no matter how frustrating, embarrassing or out of tune – because “that’s the way you played it”?