Mediocre

Our dance class has a social gathering at the end of every term, where students at all different levels get together to cut a rug before heading out for drinks.
Normally I find an excuse not to attend, but this week I thought I’d bite the bullet and head along. The teachers say what the dance is going to be before starting each song, and to begin with I felt comfortable enough. I must admit to being slightly dismayed to encounter some fellow students who started at the same time as me but whom I haven’t seen for a while, because they’ve been shoulder tapped to move up to the intermediate class. Never mind, good on them, I say. Then I got asked to dance by someone from the advanced class to do the Rumba. He kept trying to get me to do steps I’d never seen before, spins and reverse turns and such. He was patient enough but I was horribly out of my depth and I think we were both glad when the music ended. The next dance was a quick step, one I know but unfortunately all the leaders were busy and wouldn’t catch my eye. The next dance was the Jive, one I’ve learnt the rudimentary steps for but when my new partner once again tried to spin me around the dance floor, I was completely at sea and could only laugh helplessly as I stumbled through it. My partner said very kindly that he was impressed that I always seemed to be in a good mood, even when I had no idea what I was doing. He didn’t actually say that last bit out loud but I knew what he meant. In spite of everything, I actually really enjoyed myself, although I wasn’t too sorry to be able to cry off going on for drinks.
I listened to a podcast the other day which spoke on the benefits of learning another language. One vital lesson was that you learn the importance of being “good enough”, rather than getting paralyzed by the need for perfection.
It does feel inherently valuable to have these experiences of being crappy at something. It still amazes me the number of junior doctors for whom not passing their (notoriously difficult) professional exams is the first time in their lives they’ve ever failed at anything*. I have to admit, though, that after all these years, the novelty is starting to wear off.

*I must stop using this example; it’s a couple of decades old now.