"Perfectionism is when you have unrealistically high expectations of yourself combined with a lack of self love. If you have high expectations, but these expectations are reasonable for your ability, AND you have mercy on yourself, then you will probably not run into difficulty."
― Lisa Van Gemert, M.ED. quoted from the podcast: “Perfectionism, Adventures in Being Gifted”
I hinted at perfectionism in an earlier post, but I felt the need to go a little deeper, so I’ve been exploring the topic.
When my family complains “stop being such a perfectionist”, I’ve often taken it as a backward compliment. I can be stubbornly proud of my standards.
But what they are saying is: “Stop working on that project, it’s already good enough and now you are wasting time.” or “Your high standards are making me feel inferior.” or “Your expectations are too high for even you.”
High standards are not necessarily a fault. A clean house, a productive schedule, and a well executed musical performance are blessings, but when my self worth depends on meeting those standards, perfectionism turns those blessings into a spiritual battle. When failure happens, I experience shame, which turns to self hate; I become anxious, angry, and self obsessed.
Fearing failure, I’ve turned down great opportunities, put off starting projects or left them unfinished. Fear has sabotaged me in performance, and one mistake became another if I didn’t immediately forgive myself and let it go. It’s easy for me to forgive other musicians when they fumble, but can I forgive myself?
Professional basketball players miss shots and it’s forgivable, but musicians, playing thousands of notes, often grieve about a few out of place. We are trained to be fault finders. Adjudicators would mark me down for my failure to follow a written dynamic, or fingering, or miniscule pedal marking. Oh brother. Was the performance meaningful? Was it musical?
When I was studying music, perfectionism was the air I breathed, a deeply ingrained cultural standard worked into the very structure of our education; there were winners, and there were losers. Many of my teachers were bitter people who used my lesson time to praise the progress of other students who were better technical performers, and every achievement I earned was shadowed by someone who was superior. A perfectionist never sees themselves as good enough, and I began to see myself as unworthy.
My piano instructor in college, an angry person who took pleasure when I failed, sometimes boasted: “I can make you make mistakes with the power of my mind.” The last year I studied with her, I performed an exquisite Brahms Rhapsody for my end of term evaluation. All the piano faculty adjudicated these events. I loved that piece with my whole heart, and I was determined to play it that way. While I was playing, deep in the zone of passion for the music, I felt her negativity creeping in, even in my profound state of focus I heard her voice — the doubts she planted in my heart. But in that instant my own power suddenly manifested — and that power was my spirit, filled with love.
It was one of a handful of times I have felt absolutely, 100%, gloriously satisfied with a performance. I’m sure the adjudicators found faults. But I didn’t care.
What mattered is — I loved that performance.
When I left the room, two close friends who had literally been standing outside with their ears pressed to the door, melted me with hugs and exclamations. I had no idea! I wonder, sitting here 40 years later, if they had lent me that extra bit of love I needed.
What does this slightly weird story have to do with perfectionism? Basically, it showed me a way through, to release the hold it had on me. When I started to perform that day I had the love for the music, yes, but I also had a deep longing to be validated by one of those piano instructors — for one of them to declare that I was, actually, worthy. Instead, in that moment, I declared it to myself.
It was an important lesson; one that influenced most of my life as a professional harpist. When I am mindful, I try to perform with an attitude of kindness towards myself. Love the music, your instrument, the circumstance, the privilege of being asked to perform, and wholeheartedly love yourself. In that moment when you play a G chord instead of an F, love and forgive yourself, and when you forget what’s next and you have to improvise a measure, congratulate yourself for being so resourceful. Kindness is not weakness; it is a great strength.
While writing this post, I listened to podcasts on perfectionism, and realized that I can grow healthier in the ways I treat myself and others. The quote from Lisa Van Gemert can be heard in the excellent, life affirming interview “ Perfectionism” on the “Adventures in Being Gifted” podcast. The discussion on perfectionism starts at about 20 minutes in, but I recommend the whole podcast.
LINK to Lisa’s book on Perfectionism
I can’t recommend this enough. Lisa and the hosts outline action steps for healing issues with perfectionism. It’s especially good for teachers and parents!
I welcome your comments on this struggle.
“In the end, perfection is just a concept - an impossibility we use to torture ourselves and that contradicts nature.”
― Guillermo del Toro
Piano was my first love; I did not start taking harp lessons until I was 16. Here my oldest brother is probably trying, patiently, to teach me to play.