no you're wrong, you're very wrong
So, there I was actually enjoying myself during tonights performance. I was sitting there counting all the things I was grateful for. There is lots of evidence that gratitude is important for wellbeing. I'm not going to provide the links. I can't be bothered right now...I have something more important I want to write about.
So, I was enjoying the performance and then for some reason I noticed that I seemed to be splitting more and more notes. I notice that some tutti's with the trumpet are getting messier and messier from my side. I seem to start making more splits. I start to get upset with myself and start to feel really dirty. I feel waves of ashamed, broken, incomplete. Again, everyone is talking about me and starting to talk about how bad I am becoming. People are scared to meet my eye and they are also embarrassed about how awful I am playing. Or at least that is what perfectionism is saying to me.
Perfectionism is constantly nagging at me that I can't miss notes. If I miss notes, I will ruin the performance. It whispers that if I don't stop slitting notes my life is not worth living and I am a piece of shit. I am a talentless, lazy, fat cow. And ugly and old.
Perfectionism is mean.
On my drive home I started to get angry with myself. 'Why can't you get this right? Why can't you just be good? After all time, all this practice, all this experience, all this therapy and bullshit, why can't you just stop being so perfectionistic??? Why can't you just stop doing this to yourself????' What is WRONG with me?
I have tried and tried to stop being so judgemental and harsh toward myself. I have tried self-compassion, I have tried 'making room for imperfection', I have tried to focus on the good, let the bad just float away. Blah. Blah. Blah. But still it goes on and I feel like a dirty rotten failure with every next split note.
Perfectionism will not let go of me. It will not let me rest.
And that is when I realise that I need to accept perfectionism.
I need to allow the perfectionistic voices to be there. I need to stop trying to get them off the bus and stop the struggle with them. I don't have to listen to them, or do what they say, but they are not going anywhere, and I am making my life miserable by trying to get them to shut up.
I might do better to welcome them on, listen to what they are saying, let them wander around on my bus.