If you follow my YouTube Channel you know I’m not a perfectionist. I used to be. But now I understand the power of imperfection.
People who believe they are perfect suffer.
I just retired from my job as an academic advisor. Why? Because although I had no official complaints in regard to my duties, there were a few people who treated me with disdain because I made occasional minor errors. As if they are perfect?
The problem is that a self-deluded sense of perfection creates a disease. A toxicity and animosity grew not only toward me, but toward several others who decided to retire shortly before I did for similar reasons. I watched as people who I looked up to walked away from their positions. I knew there was a fly in the ointment. My sister referred to it as termites in the woodwork. (Expect a future song with that title.)
So when a direct supervisor started pouring on the criticism over petty issues, I knew my time there was done.
As for me, I choose imperfection.
Until my 40s, I was a perfectionist. I’d often leave things incomplete because I didn’t want to fuck them up. But somewhere along the way I came to embrace imperfection. In fact, I might suggest that imperfection, in a sense, is a form of perfection.
Imperfection has power. It creates authenticity, character, and humility. With music, I’d much rather listen to old recordings with imperfect qualities than new music with perfectly programmed beats and bass lines. I’d rather hear an occasional note sung out of key than listen to someone using autotune.
I understand that if one is a doctor, you must operate concisely. However, if one is a teacher, are you expected to give flawless lectures? I don’t think so. As an advisor my crime was not misadvising students, but rather not perfectly understanding the internal operations to a few individuals’ expectations. They expected perfection. I did not deliver. I am human. I am not sorry.
I prefer Wabi-Sabi to finely curated art.
What is Wabi-Sabi? Simply stated, it’s a Japanese aesthetic concept that finds beauty in imperfection, impermanence, and simplicity. It embraces the natural cycle of growth and decay, seeing beauty in humbled, rustic, and weathered things.
I like old guitars better than new ones. I love a weathered home by the sea more than the new shiny ones popping up all around the suburbs of Nashville. In ambient music there is something called disintegration. It’s music that feels like it’s falling apart. It feels both fragile and beautiful. I think that might be considered a form of Wabi-Sabi.
Practice imperfection and carry on.
For those of you who believe you are perfect, or who condemn others for minor mistakes, go ahead and continue to suffer in your lonely worlds 0f perfectionism if you please.
But for those who understand the power of imperfection, don’t worry about the perfectionists who throw you under the bus. But rather, simply do your best and greet imperfection with joy.
Let’s stay in touch. – dse
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