When I was young – maybe 12 or 13 – I was pretty good at the piano. I had taken lessons from age 7, and practicing was something I enjoyed rather than something I dreaded. I did reasonably well in competitions – never first place but respectable.
In my hometown, there was a force of a woman who taught piano. Her name was Nena Plant Wideman, and she was well-known in my hometown of Shreveport, Louisiana. Ms. Wideman was fierce in her abilities and teaching. My parents asked me if I’d like to take lessons from her, and I jumped at the chance.
I remember walking in her living room, excited and ready to show off my abilities. I was nervous but not so nervous that I couldn’t play. After introductions, I sat down, placed my fingers on the keys, and began to play a prepared piece. I don’t think I got through the first measure before she stopped me. My fingers weren’t curved enough, or the dynamics were off, or I wasn’t sitting up correctly, or any number of other things were wrong about my approach. I tried again and didn’t get past a few notes. Again and again and again it went until I broke down and started crying.
I don’t know if I’m built for harsh criticism. Give me the feedback sandwich – something I do well followed by what I need to work on followed by something else I do well. I can handle that. But my mind shuts down when there’s just criticism.
Ms. Wideman did nothing wrong. She was a magnificent teacher. For years I’ve viewed myself as a weakling because I couldn’t hold up under her intense correction. Strong people take criticism and become better, so I must have been weak. And if I had only been stronger, I might have excelled at the piano rather than being just a bit better than average. That was my takeaway from the experience.
Lately, I’ve been a little gentler on myself. I love watching people excel at their chosen profession – whether they’re winning a Grammy, becoming CEO of a large corporation, or winning an Olympic medal. Hard work coupled with innate skill is an unbeatable combination. I simply recognize now that I don’t have to be the best, or even the best that I can possibly be at a particular skill.
Yes, you heard me right. I don’t always have to be My Best. This blog post might be better if I wait to post it until tomorrow so I can review it one more time and fine-tune it. But I’m not going to do that. Instead, I’m going to take my dog outside for a walk.
I’m ok with being good at what I do instead of perfect. Because perfection isn’t my goal. Connection is. So, I’m going to continue to write and share my experiences in my own flawed way and hope that you read something I write and think, “Me, too”. Because, after all, we’re all in this together. Even on the days when we don’t do our best.
Nena Plan Wideman was a noted piano teach who founded what is now the Wideman International Piano Competition in 1950. Her impact on the musical life of Shreveport was unparalleled. She passed away in 1984 at the age of 78.