I have said this SO many times in my life.
In fact, it was this very phrase that was running through my head as I was belting
ungraceful horrible sounds from my vocal chords the other day.
In case you don’t know, I work at an adoption agency that is on the same campus as the International House of Prayer here in Atlanta. They have a 24/7 prayer room where there is live worship going all the time. So, being a musician, I play a few 2 hour sets each week to keep the prayer room going 24/7.
Wednesday morning, before my set, I picked out all my songs. I was pretty excited because I was playing a couple of new ones that I really really liked…
and that’s about as far as it went to actually being about to play those songs.
The first song went great. I sang and it felt so smooth as the words and notes just rolled off my tongue, but then I made the transition to the next song’s chorus line. It was a big build up, so naturally, I sang the chorus loud and proud…
and my melodious harmonies went from this
Aaaand in about .08 seconds it turned into this hot mess….
That little phrase “fake it till you make” quickly disappeared…. because I was not making it. Actually, I wasn’t making anything at this point… excepting making people cover theirs ears and quietly exit the room.
BUT it got me thinking.
Why not be authentic and true to our mistakes and short comings? What’s the matter with our flaws if they don’t cause harm to others? Yes, there is a strength in overcoming and standing in victory over shortcomings and flaws, but until then, why not take a deep breath in and let the expectation of perfectionism go.
If we were all good at the same things, we would live in a very dull and boring world. There would be nothing special about anyone. There wouldn’t be a reason to practice or fine tune stills. There wouldn’t be moments where you’re still and awestruck by the beauty that is being created and flowing out of a mere human being.
There’s something real and authentic when you hear and see the flaws of a person. It’s what makes them unique in a way. It makes them more human, if that’s even possible, and more relatable. There’s a happy reassurance in a person’s mistake that releases tension. I not entirely sure what that tension is made up of, but I’m happy when it’s broken.
Growing up, my dad always told me the same thing over and over again.
You don’t have to be the best to be your best.
It seems simple enough, but I never really understood that until recently. Being my best is in its own category. It’s absolutely incomparable to anyone. No one can stand next to me and place a gold, sliver, or bronze metal around my neck. They aren’t me. They don’t live my life. They don’t possess the same mixture of successes, failures, talents, flaws, or abilities. It’s useless to live life under the expectations of others and it’s pointless to aim for non-existent perfection.
There’s just one Jess Wright and I plan to keep on singing, playing, and living rather loudly.
Wrong notes and all.