So Many Dishes

I had been asked to sing at a funeral. It wasn’t just any funeral. The wife of a prominent car dealer in Miami had been killed, along with two other people, in what police described as a targeted attack. Because of the victim’s status in the community, a large turnout was expected for the service. As I recall, the couple weren’t even members of our church, but we had a larger sanctuary.

I was nervous from the start. I had been asked to sing a piece I’d never sung before, the Bach-Gounod Ave Maria. I was to be accompanied by a harpist with whom I’d never worked. We had time to run through the song exactly once, with no time to iron out the rough spots. It didn’t help that I was worried about what was happening at home; Ben was still a baby, Ken wasn’t feeling well, and none of us were happy about my leaving.

As I could have predicted, the Ave Maria did not, in my eyes, go very well. The harpist and I were not exactly on the same page in terms of tempo, dynamics, you name it. By the time we finished, I felt miserable about the result. I discreetly slipped out the door to the choir room and then stepped outside for some fresh air and to collect myself, because I felt on the verge of tears.

As I stood in the sunshine, taking a few deep breaths, a nun approached me. I knew most of the nuns from the convent attached to our church, but this wasn’t someone I’d seen before, and her habit was different. It was obvious she had something she wanted to say to me, and I steeled myself for the criticism I was expecting.

Instead, she gently said, “you weren’t happy with how that went, were you?” I nodded. She continued, “but what you feel here matters less than how your music made others feel. There are people here today who needed to hear that, and were comforted by it. It didn’t need to be perfect.”

I hope I thanked her; I think I did. Because I needed someone to tell me that I don’t need to be perfect, no matter what I’m doing. As a musician, it’s drilled into us to perform perfectly. When I practiced piano as I was growing up, or in high school, when I started voice lessons, I’d often hear my mother call out, “that’s not right. Play (sing) it again.” But no performance is ever perfect, and rarely in life do we do anything perfectly. I’ve tried to develop the mindset, if I’ve done my best, that’s enough. I still fail into the perfection trap, but hopefully not as often.