Perfect Enough

I'm a perfectionist. I can easily spend 30 minutes practicing a short phrase. I proofread my emails, and I cringe if I spot a typo after sending a text. Don't even get me started on the misuse of the apostrophe with plurals.

Until recently, I've let my perfectionism get in the way of enjoying my work as a choir director at Northwest Unitarian Universalist Congregation. In my head, I have an ideal of how I would like the music to sound, which is difficult to achieve with a small, amateur choir. You have varying degrees of musical experience, and attendance can fluctuate from week to week, making it difficult to build on previous rehearsals. This used to bother me, but it doesn't anymore.

I've discovered that perfectionism is my way of trying to control things. As a music engraver, this works pretty well. As a choir director? Not so much. As soon as you add one more person to any equation, there are certain things you're never going to be able to control.

What I'm really learning to do is to trust. I still set a high standard, and I run my rehearsals like clockwork, but I'm also trusting my choir to do their part. Every member of my choir is there because they enjoy singing. Regardless of individual skill level, they each want to make the best music they possibly can, and I do my best to show them how. Rather than trying to drill the music into my singers, I'm finding ways of coaxing it out of them.

Most of my Sunday morning rehearsals are relaxed. I rehearse my choir thoroughly on Wednesdays, and Sunday morning is simply a time to review the music and put my choir in a good frame of mind. When the service begins and it's showtime, my choir always comes through. They put in the work on Wednesdays, and they shine on Sundays.

By its very nature, live music is never perfect, but when my choir sings on Sunday mornings, it's perfect enough.