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When Practice Doesn't Make Perfect

They tell us that practice makes perfect. I have determined that this is a lie. 

Today at the dance studio, I laid there on the floor after my lesson and just sort of screamed up at the ceiling in frustration. You see, I was working on the third step of my treble reels. Again. My instructor assured me that I have improved SO MUCH. But that's not good enough.

I can coax out all the right sounds, but the timing between hits is all wrong.

I can get the timing down just right, but it's painstakingly slow. 

I can make it through the steps up to speed, but my sounds become muddled. 

It's a vicious cycle of imperfections and I am NOT good with imperfection. Imperfection makes me angry. 

Anger makes me better.

There is something about being so furious with your own inadequacy that really kicks your butt into gear. Screaming "I CAN GET THIS" at your reflection motivates more than gentle encouragements. Refuse to accept that that is the best you can do. Failure is not an option. 

No, practice does not make perfect. Practice makes you angry. Practice makes you work even harder. Practice makes you throw your arms up in the air and shout out in exaltation when you FINALLY nail it. 

And then? 

Uair amháin eile. One more time. 

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