Devotion over perfection

The stage is ready. The polished wooden floor was covered with a golden glow from the lightning. All the performer were ready to do their performance. Some of them are worried, and some practice their selected song. As the first performer takes the stage, the audience becomes silent. Every line was perfectly tuned with the music, every word is measured with the years of expertise, every moment is exact and every tone is in perfect rhythm. The audience was stunned and looked in wonder. They are in awe of the proficiency, the indisputable skill refined by constant practice. The singer was five years old when he started to practice the tone. Now, he is almost eighty, but his voice is as same as twenty or twenty-five years ago. No one even thinks to challenge him or try to do better than him; he was the king of ‘swar’. After the performance is over, there is are burst of huge, deafening applause when the last act is performed brilliantly, recognising years of hard work. Everyone in the room was stunned by the performance and wondered how practice made everything so perfect.

Now, the time is for another performance, a 25-year-old boy with someone to hold him and help him to get to the center of the stage. Something about him is different. The audience was muttering. After the lights went off, everyone was silent and the performance began. The boy started his song with a soft tone and feelings from the bottom of his heart. Every word that came out of his mouth started to feel true to the audience. The expression was natural and related to the song. He was not just singing that song; he lived that song on the stage. The moment was stopped, audience looked like statues. This performer was not perfect, unlike another performer; there were no dependable rhythms or flawlessly practiced actions. The audience is now feeling rather than only observing. Their hands, which claped in gratitude a moment before, are suddenly still, clutched by something more profound. When the performance was over, the performers waited for something, but the hall was filled with silence. The audience forgot to clap as they were lost in the song. Their eyes shine with a deeper sense of connection. They are not spectators anymore. They are carried away, engrossed in the present and totally overcome by the soul that is erupting in front of them. After some moments, everyone appluse for the special performer and a 25-year-old boy smiled like he got what he needed and carefree got off the stage with the help. 

We are taught that practice makes perfect from the very beginning of learning a craft. Repetition for hours, perpetual improvement, the quest for perfection. Indeed, skill is shaped by practice. It strengthens technique, creates muscle memory and lays a foundation so solid that nothing can topple it. One becomes the best by working tirelessly. No error is left unfixed, no flow is ignored. They perform with the assurance of someone who has spent their entire life preparing for this moment when they take the stage, the field, to the spotlight. And they are recognised throughout the world.  

Then there are others who transcend perfection and enter a completely different realm: dedication. These people give themselves all to their craft, not practice it. They are motivated by something more profound and wild than mere competence. They give their everything to their work, leaving technique, accuracy and calculation behind. All that is left is devotion to the work. When people see this, they feel it, not just admire it. They are captivated, mesmerised and helpless against the flood of passion in front of them. It seems as though time has stopped and this one instance. This one manifestation of something more than talent or effort matters in the world. 

The room does not erupt in roaring applause when the last note is played, the last stroke is painted or the last movement is performed. Rather, it is quiet. There is no cheering from the crowd. Stunned, immobile and just able to feel, they sit there. And the real victory is in the heart that devoted itself entirely to the work, not in the hands that trained until they were flawless. Those who attain excellence are remembered.