Kanye west made me cry in class today

“My greatest pain in life is that I will never be able to see myself perform live”-Kanye West

My biggest regret is that I’d never be able to read my finished articles for the first time, watch myself play basketball, listen to myself play piano, or see myself as a stranger would. 

Talent is both a blessing and a curse. It provides a way out to many, but as a result we become unbearable perfectionists. Whether that's curling every strand of hair as we go down the list of our morning routines, criticizing yourself on every missed shot, trying to get every key in a piano piece to ‘sound right,’ we torment ourselves relentlessly to achieve a fictitious level we deem perfect. 

For me, this is a toxic habit I’ve indulged in and as a result destroyed my passion for piano in the process. I remember every detail from when I heard this piece for the first time-it was one of those classic Illinois days in September; it was bright out but cold, there wasn’t a cloud in sight but it seemed as if the Sun was hiding from you, and the day had the makings to be a good one but you were overwhelmed with a dreary feeling. 

As I walked into my weekly Sunday piano lesson, I had come off a recital and was in need of a new piece to learn. My instructor played me a few pieces-but most of them just felt like the average ‘I play piano and can move really fast with my hands,’ pieces. However, the last song she played for me, after the first melody I was hooked. Debussy: Arabesque No. 1 was one of those songs that felt as if a drop of water was trickling down your brain, and the world seemed to have stopped for a second to listen to it with you. 

I was dead set on perfecting this song; First, to advance my own skills as a pianist. Second, to be able to invoke the same feelings of peace I feel when hearing the song to other people. 

I would play for hours on end, making sure every note felt right. While waiting at the bus stop, I would play an imaginary piano using my head to get the pieces together. While walking in the hallways from class to class, I’d listen to it on my phone. Soon the song had captivated my full attention. 

Two weeks before the day of the winter recital, my piano instructor asked if she could put me down on the list of performers with Arabesque no. 1 as the song I’d play. The song was good-actually it was beyond good. I had gotten to the point where I could play it from start to finish without any noticeable mistakes. 

To the average person listening, it was perfect. Yet to me, it never would be.

I decided to withdraw myself from the winter recital and aim to perfect it for the one in the spring. Then COVID struck, the piano program shut down, turned into a nail salon, and I never got the chance to play the song. 

I eventually got to the point where even to me, the song was perfect. But knowing that I would never get the chance to show the world the true beauty behind the notes on the sheets was painful. It felt as if it were a secret I needed to share to the world. But it was too little too late.

I tell this story to illustrate one truth: perfection is an illusion, and expecting to one day actually reach such a mirage is foolish. However there’s a balance-being willing to chase such a fantasy knowing that you’ll never reach it is what passion is. Had I been content with how the piece was and played it during the winter recital, I could at least take comfort in the closure it would have brought me. 

But I didn’t, and like the piano program my passion for music shut down.

Years later and I rekindle that flame and playing the old, out of tune piano in the basement of my resident hall felt like sitting down with an old friend and catching up. After a week or two of consistent practice, I’ve reached a point where the song isn’t perfect but I accept it as it is-because damn it sounds good. 

I see a lot of my friends undergo similar issues, in regards to the perfectionist ideology that’s drilled into their brains from day one causing massive self esteem issues. 

A while ago, there was this valuable golden rosary I had that I broke in an accident. Through trial and error I was eventually able to take a small silver loop and link the rosary together so that it appeared good as new. To everyone who saw it, they noted no difference. Yet since I knew it was there, it was all I could see. 

In a similar way, when we notice qualities of ourselves we deem to be ‘problems,’ we subconsciously fixate on it and that problem is all we see. We ignore everything that makes us beautiful because in our eyes we aren’t perfect. 

I’ve seen that twisted logic ruin friends to the point they can’t look at themselves in the mirror. If you can’t see the beauty within yourself, you can’t see the beauty of the world around you.  

I ask the readers of this piece to give themselves a break. In this world it’s ‘go big or go home,’ so we believe we have to be perfect-but we don’t. In that chase for perfection I lost my passion for piano, but on a larger scale when we approach life with this mindset we lose our identity. 

You can’t be upset at life for being unfair and cruel, because it's like that for everyone. However what isn’t fair is not seeing your worth and allowing people who haven’t been in your shows to determine that for you. 

Love yourself. Love the world around you. Love what you do…

Sincerely, 

Peter Pynadath