The Gig: Redefining Success Beyond Perfection
“Art doesn’t ask you to fix yourself—it asks you to reveal yourself."
— Dwayne Walker, from World of Creatives, in this video
On September 27, I had my very first performance in front of strangers. It was leading a Singing Circle, as a kind of warm up gig, to an Ecstatic dance in Cologne, with roughly 70 people. A new group, an unfamiliar setting, organizers I didn’t know.
When I received the invitation three months earlier, I was thrilled. At the same time, I knew that saying yes would throw me into the deep end in many ways, and that I’d need to invest a lot of energy in mentally preparing for it. And I did.
My head was soon full of questions:
What if I hit the wrong chord on the guitar?
What if my voice cracks in the middle of a song?
What if the audience gives no reaction at all?
What if the organizer gives me harsh feedback?
What if I collapse under stress on the day of the show?
And perhaps most importantly: how will I respond to my own inner critic if I’m not satisfied with my performance?
I rehearsed every possible scenario and built backup plans for them all.
I reduced my stress at work by delegating overwhelming tasks. I immersed myself in documentaries on failure in different art forms, such as sculpting or in circus. I did research on how artists deal with impostor syndrome, and how to navigate through and around depression in a more effective and self compassionate way. (I highly recommend this video in English on 11 Micro Habits that Fuel Depression.)
I spend weeks feeding my mind with frameworks that reminded me: art is not about proving yourself, it’s about expressing yourself. I watched a documentary about Art Brut, in which creativity exists purely for the artist, not for external validation. It helped me loosen the grip of the thought that I must have a formal degree in order to be “good enough.”
In the days leading up to the Ecstatic dance, I marked this event as an initiation, a threshold. Something big, something new, something deeply meaningful, for me and my further pas as a creative.
Now, three days after the show, I can say this:
I didn’t deliver a flawless performance. I also didn’t completely fail.
I was solid.
Not spectacular, not catastrophic. Solid.
And given the circumstances,…. like the last-minute schedule changes, the stress of the setup, the newness of the environment,… I am proud of that. I stayed grounded.
Most importantly, I didn’t punish myself for mistakes. Not in the moment, and not afterward. Which meant I was able to navigate the vulnerability hangover without being crushed by it. For me, this alone is a huge step in dealing with impostor syndrome.
Redefining Success
It’s easy to think success means dazzling an audience or delivering a flawless show. But this experience taught me that sometimes success is simply showing up, doing the thing for the first time, and staying present.
I prepared as much as I could. I worked within my skill set. I listened to the organizer’s requests and adapted as best as possible. And at the end, people stayed. They were touched. No one left early. That is worth celebrating.
Even better: I can now look at my performance honestly, without tearing myself down, and see what I’d like to try differently next time:
A different kind of introduction.
More movement and energy.
More guidance and presence as a facilitator.
Not shrinking myself in moments of speaking.
Bringing in more teaching elements.
These are lessons, not self-condemnations.
And that’s why, for me, this first gig was a success.
How to Redefine What Success Means to You
One of the biggest gifts this experience gave me was a new definition of success. I didn’t deliver a flawless performance… and honestly, that was never the point. What I did deliver was presence, grounding, and the ability to move through the moment without punishing myself for every imperfection.
To me, that is my new definition of success.
Too often, we measure our worth by impossible standards: applause, perfection, or external validation. But real success, especially in live music, lives in something quieter.
It’s in showing up.
It’s in creating when fear tells you not to.
It’s in staying kind to yourself even when the outcome doesn’t match the fantasy in your head.
Redefining success means asking yourself:
Did I show up with honesty?
Did I learn something I can carry into the next time?
Did I give myself permission to grow, rather than demanding perfection?
For you, this might look different. Maybe it’s writing a page in your journal, even if it’s messy. Maybe it’s sketching something small, or recording a rough demo you never intend to share. Maybe it’s saying yes to an opportunity that scares you a little.
If you can walk away from your creative practice feeling that you’ve honored your voice, your curiosity, your presence, that’s success.
And the more often we allow ourselves to claim these “small” wins, the more resilience and freedom we build as artists, as musicians and beautiful human beings.
