Embracing Imperfection and Hope

	I have always been someone who has believed that she can somehow achieve perfection by simply pushing hard enough. Anything short of perfection meant I just wasn’t trying hard enough, and I believed I could take on anything as long as I put in the correct amount of effort. However, I have recently discovered that perfection can’t always be achieved by simply trying harder. As a result, I had to learn how to alter my perspective on perfection, manage my expectations, and learn to embrace hope and not discouragement.
	Dissonance is something unexpected. In music, dissonance can be considered unstable and even unpleasant. But it is always used intentionally, and when it is resolved correctly it can make a piece all the more beautiful. Dissonance is something I encountered when I was unable to meet the expectations I had set for myself by putting in the usual amount of effort. Thus, I experienced what many refer to as imposter syndrome, believing that perhaps I was not where I was supposed to be, that someone had made a mistake that ended up with me being where I was. The dissonance was at first unpleasant- but its resolution in what it taught me made me grow as a person, and changed the way I viewed life to make it more beautiful. In her article, Julia Hogan says the following: “I’m going to let you in on a little secret: these expectations are arbitrary” (“Why Letting Go of Expectations is a Freeing Habit” by Julia Hogan - Moreau FYE Week Nine). My expectations had no meaning- they don’t matter. They were reflections of the person I wanted to be and not the person that I was meant to be. Letting go of expectations is freeing because it allows us to be nothing but the person God wants each of us to be. In choosing to let go of these expectations, my yoke became light- perfection seems so simple, only requiring that we trust in God’s unchanging love for us. A homily I heard one Sunday morning at the Basilica gave advice that spoke to my feeling of imposter syndrome: do as much as you are able, then let God handle the rest. Therefore, I try every day to simply do what I can, and leave the rest to God. In doing so, I am freed from the overwhelming need for perfection that once consumed my thoughts, and instead I am able to see that perfection is simply to be the person that God wants me to be. 
Letting go of perfection means that one cannot be discouraged by failures. Discouragement causes us to believe that we are incapable of changing, of continuing to try in the midst of failure. When we are discouraged, we are unable to accept that things will always be imperfect. It is especially easy to feel discouraged when encountering brokenness in our communities. It is easy to respond to the brokenness we encounter by contributing our anger and resentment. However, what is required of us is to view the world with hope. When we have hope, we believe that change is possible, and when we are able to imagine a better world, we are able to be the ones who create the goodness that we wish for the world. We cannot control the goodness of others; as Father John Jenkins said, “we cannot directly reduce anyone else’s hatred” (“Wesley Theological Seminary 2012 Commencement Address” by Father John Jenkins, C.S.C - Moreau FYE Week Ten). We cannot save the world by hating those who cause it to be broken. However, we are not called to bring perfection to a broken society; we are only called to be a light for others through our own goodness. Someone I know who embraces this call to goodness is my high school math teacher. Originally, in his attempts to “save the education system of Memphis,” he became “blinded by his arrogance” that he alone was able to heal the brokenness that is Memphis, Tennessee. Being unable to do so, he became discouraged. However, his perspective changed after deciding to be a vessel for goodness. Instead of attempting to raise himself up by his achievements in helping others, he was not fulfilling God’s purpose for his life. However, in deciding that it is enough to answer the call to serve in any way possible, and letting God handle the rest. Even though the goodness he pursues is less glamorous than the greatness of solving Memphis’s various problems, his program “Memphis Communiversity” has been a way to serve the community through love. I’ve had the opportunity to virtually be a part of this program this semester, and even though my contribution is small, I know that it is significant to the student I am assisting, and I know that it is significant to God. In His eyes, the smallest acts of service are great; therefore, we must carry out these acts of service with love. As my math teacher so eloquently says, “While greatness is endowed by the whims of external sources, in all of our interactions, we have the capability of creating goodness as it is generated from within. It is not self-serving but rather serves others. It is not a celebration of ourselves, but rather a celebration of our exact place in this incredible universe.” We each are put exactly where we are meant to be in the universe. Some are put in positions to do great deeds of service that impact the history of the world; others are simply called to serve the communities around them, others simply not to contribute to the world’s hate. However, no matter where we are called, we are always called to use whatever talents we have to serve in love. Without love, our greatest deeds are meaningless; but with love, even our smallest deeds can be great. 
Embracing “our exact place in this incredible universe” can be difficult as well, especially when coming to terms with the fact that no community is perfect. A community that I have encountered at Notre Dame is the liturgical choir. I cherish my relationships with the people in this group, and I believe that the music we create has a healing effect, at least to my soul. I made this discovery one morning before Mass when reading about the communal effect of Psalms for my theology class: “They bind together those who are at variance: they reconcile those who have fallen out; they heal those who have been hurt or offended. For who will fail to forgive the neighbor whose voice has blended with his own in praising God? It is surely a great bond and token of unity, when a multitude of people come together to form one choir. The harp has various strings, but there is but a single symphony. Few though the strings are, the fingers of the musician often make a mistake. But the Spirit at work in the people knows not how to err” (Saint Ambrose, “Commentary on Psalm 1”) Ambrose’s words resonate with me, and make me appreciate the community of voices that comes together every week to worship God. However, my initial feeling towards being in choir was that of discouragement. Firstly, I experienced the familiar imposter syndrome because of the difficulties I had with sight-reading music and singing a voice part I had never sung before. I felt unworthy of being in the choir and thought that I was letting everyone down at every practice. Secondly, I struggled with loneliness on account of the fact although I loved everyone in the choir, I struggled in creating intimate relationships with any one person. Thirdly, I soon realized that I am, in fact, much less Catholic than this particular group of people. My family is not particularly Catholic, I was never quite catechized, and I had grown up with friends who would have liked it better if I weren’t Catholic. Realizing that I don’t know exactly where to genuflect or the order of what happens in a Mass, or the fact that my family never did Confession or the Stations of the Cross, or the fact that I had no idea that there are two Sauls in the Bible, all led to feelings of inadequacy. However, my perspective has since changed about how I view the choir since I have changed how I view perfection. Originally, I believed that I needed to be perfect in every practice and in every one of my interactions with the other members of the community. However, the past couple of months have taught me that I do not need to bring perfection to my community because there is no such thing as a perfect community. I learned that it is enough to love my community even if I am not intimately connected with it. According to Parker Palmer, intimacy is not required for a community to be connected:  “Intimacy is neither possible nor necessary across this entire range of relationships. But a capacity for connectedness is both possible and necessary if we are to inhabit the larger, and truer, community of our lives” (“Thirteen Ways of Looking at Community” by Parker J. Palmer - Moreau FYE Week Eleven). After embracing this view, my new desire simply became to love this group of people and to show that love to them, instead of trying to be loved by them. And when my fear of imperfection was replaced with love, intimate relationships came along with it. And through these friendships, I have learned that it is not perfect singing that brings us together as a group. Most of us aren’t perfect: many can’t sight read and learn music by simply listening to the people who remember the pieces from last year. Others depend on online recordings to learn music. And as I’ve learned, mistakes and getting lost are common occurrences, even on Sundays. Nevertheless, we carry each other as a group, as our ultimate goal is not individual perfection but to create beautiful harmonies together. Today, our choir director told us about how group singing is a sort of empathy. Our heartbeats become synchronized when we sing together, and producing good sound means listening to the voices of others. I therefore believe that it is not just our voices that harmonize every Sunday; it is our souls as well. The reason for this is that, as I’ve learned, several of the choir members are not there because of sheer musical talent. Through the conversations I’ve had, I’ve heard many reasons as to why people joined the choir: some to become closer to God, some to just make friends, some because of musical skill, some because they sang in choir in high school, and others have told me that they have no idea why they decided to audition for something they’d never done before, but are so glad they made that spontaneous decision. And many have also felt the similar feeling of imposter syndrome and had even considered quitting after their first rehearsal. It is these conversations that have led me to believe that this particular group of people, who come from diverse backgrounds and experiences, are meant to be together in this particular place and time in the universe, that it was destined by God before we were even born that we would end up together. This, in my opinion, is the core of community. We are not all perfect musicians; therefore, the choir is far from perfect. However, there is a certain tie that binds us together, and it is not our talents. I’m not exactly sure what it is, or why such a broad group of people are so connected, but without this tie we would not be able to create the music that we create every Sunday morning. It is through this tie that community exists in this choir, and by letting go of the need for perfection has allowed me to fully allow myself to be a part of this community. 
Had “Encountering Hope” been our first week of Moreau, my response to the readings would likely have not been the same. I can say that the first few weeks of Notre Dame were ones of discouragement. It is only through letting go of perfectionism that allowed me to replace this discouragement with hope. From now on, I no longer intend to strive for perfection; I only intend to strive for hope. I only intend to hope for complete trust in God’s love for me despite my imperfection. My desire for perfection came from a desire to be loved, but it is the love of Jesus that makes everything clear. Perfection becomes so simple when you know that you’re loved by your father. Ultimate trust in His love makes holiness seem possible, knowing that it is enough to be a sheep in the arms of her shepherd. Following my shepherd, I desire to know where He wants me to go and be exactly who he wants me to be. I am content to go wherever He takes me, whether it be serving the world in small or great ways. My goal is to follow whatever path leads me closest to God. I promise myself that I will never become discouraged- that I will always have hope that by answering God’s call, I will end up exactly wherever I need to be, through whatever trials and crosses I must bear along the way to get there. C.S. Lewis perfectly describes how one can choose hope over discouragement in “The Screwtape Letters”: “Do not be deceived, Wormwood. Our cause is never more in danger than when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending, to do our Enemy’s will, looks round upon a universe from which every trace of Him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys” ("The Screwtape Letters" Chapter 8 by C.S. Lewis - Moreau FYE Week Twelve). I am so grateful for the past thirteen weeks, and what they have taught me about perfection. I hope that in the weeks to come, I will continue to make new discoveries that have a lasting impact on my perspective of the world. 















Sources:
Julia Hogan, “Why Letting Go of Expectations is a Freeing Habit”
Saint Ambrose, “Commentary on Psalm 1” 
Father John Jenkins, C.S.C., “Wesley Theological Seminary 2012 Commencement Address”
Parker J. Palmer, “Thirteen Ways of Looking at Community”
C.S. Lewis, “The Screwtape Letters,” chapter eight