If It’s Worth Doing, It’s Worth Doing Badly
You’ve probably heard the aphorism “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right.” I suppose there are people who need to hear that, but I’m not one of them and I suspect you’re not one of them either.
Zen seems to attract a lot of perfectionistic, self-critical types who think we should do everything “right.” This attitude tends to have the unfortunate side effect that there are many worthwhile things we don’t do at all rather than doing them “wrong.” If you approach Zen practice with this attitude, you may not practice at all or you may practice only in occasional exhausting bursts of “excellence.”
So I would like to commend to you an alternative aphorism: If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing badly.
I discovered this bit of practical wisdom many years ago, in a magazine article called “The Joys of Mediocrity: Anything Worth Doing Is Worth Doing Badly.” The author had recently realized that her perfectionism had been squelching her enjoyment of life. So following the example of her husband, who had great fun playing the tuba badly, she had let go of her need to do everything well and was having great fun dancing badly.
Some years later, I learned that it was G. K. Chesterton who coined the saying “If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.” In a book I was reading on prayer, the author quotes Chesterton and comments that prayer, which is worth doing, “requires the humility to attempt it knowing we will be clumsy.”
I was reminded of this again when I heard a tape of a sermon by Fred Craddock, a preacher whom my husband and I really like. The writer of the letter to the Hebrews, Craddock says, is trying desperately, though not always gracefully or heartwarmingly, to save the church he is writing to, because he cares about that church. Craddock says, “It’s been my observation that care frequently is raw, interferes, intrudes, says the wrong thing, has the wrong timing, disrupts, makes mistakes, frequently feels it needs to apologize. But one thing care never does. Care never lets anyone go completely.” Caring is worth doing clumsily, inexpertly, imperfectly, rather than not at all.
If practicing meditation is worth doing, it’s worth doing badly. If practicing compassion is worth doing, it’s worth doing badly. You need not choose between practicing Zen “well” and not practicing Zen at all. Be a mediocre Zen practitioner or a lousy Zen practitioner. Practice Zen awkwardly, sporadically, idiosyncratically. Do zazen in a noisy place with bright lights. Keep your eyes closed. Fidget. Slouch.
What we are practicing in Zen is the awareness that we have never been apart from our enlightened nature, that we cannot be apart from our enlightened nature. We are already buddhas. Sometimes we’re fidgety buddhas and sometimes we’re tranquil buddhas. Sometimes we’re quiet buddhas and sometimes we’re chattery buddhas. Sometimes we’re happy buddhas and sometimes we’re sad buddhas. Sometimes we’re buddhas who think we should do everything perfectly and sometimes we’re buddhas who are willing to do things badly.
We open our compassionate awareness to all of it—now and now and now.