My paternal grandmother, Nana Evelyn, was extremely organized. She consulted lists and valued effective planning but grew impatient with people who prepared to excess. She said, “If you keep thinking instead of doing, your head will turn backwards.”
As a child, I imagined someone’s head spinning like a top.
Nana Evelyn used another expression when a person became stuck in the planning stage. “Es iz deyn hut,” or, “There is your hat.” I assumed this had something to do with the spinning head, and when I asked Nana Evelyn what she meant, she waved me away. “It’s what my mother used to say. Get on with you!” But finally, she explained.
And, as was often the case, Nana Evelyn’s explanation involved a family story.
Nana Evelyn’s sister, Ida, lost her husband at an early age. She now had to provide for herself and a young daughter.
But how?
Aunt Ida was the most stylish member of the family. She combined clothes and accessories with flair and created looks that on anyone else would have been a fashion blunder. As Nana Evelyn said, “Ida always looked as if she was somebody.” So Aunt Ida used her creative gifts to earn money. She began working for a tailor who quickly recognized Aunt Ida’s sewing skills and design talent, especially with hats. The tailor suggested she make hats from her own designs; he would sell them and split the profits. Soon, customers began requesting an “Ida” hat.
And this made Aunt Ida think.
What if she opened her own hat shop? She could make the hats herself! Then, as business improved, she would hire others to sew her designs.
Some relatives and friends considered this a foolish idea. Young women from poor families did not run their own shops. Great-Grandmother Cecile — the mother of Nana Evelyn and Aunt Ida — had a different opinion. Cecile, ever the powerhouse in the family, encouraged Ida’s dream. “You’re smart,” she said. “You have talent and work hard. It won’t be easy, but I know you can make this a success.”
Aunt Ida threw herself into the project. She poured over newspapers and magazines. She spent hours walking up and down the most fashionable streets in Boston with a sketch pad. She observed stylish ladies and took notes. She asked women who were “well-turned out” what they liked in a hat. A cousin offered Aunt Ida a small space, rent free, and helped her design the interior. Aunt Ida asked another relative to teach her bookkeeping and banking basics. And she made enough hats to stock the store when it opened.
Except it didn’t open.
After many months, Great-Grandmother Cecile grew frustrated. “What are you waiting for?”
Aunt Ida rattled off a dozen remaining tasks.
Another month passed.
More frustration for Great-Grandmother Cecile.
But Aunt Ida claimed she still wasn’t ready. After all, how many women opened shops and were successful? She imagined other store owners walking past her (now) bankrupt business and laughing.
One night, Aunt Ida sat in Great-Grandmother Cecile’s kitchen, revising her billing system. Scribbled spread sheets covered the kitchen table. Cecile shook her head and asked Aunt Ida to consider a worst-case scenario. If the shop was unsuccessful, Aunt Ida would end up poorer than when she started. But at least Aunt Ida would know she made the effort. She could take her new knowledge into the next venture. And Cecile reminded Aunt Ida of the example she would set her young daughter. Aunt Ida’s little girl would not see a woman with a failed hat shop. She would see a woman who did her best.
“But Mama!” Aunt Ida said in protest. “The shop has to be perfect!”
“The shop has to be perfect?” Cecile said. “Impossible! And even if it could be perfect, where is the challenge? How would you grow? Stop worrying about perfection and get moving.” Aunt Ida began to sputter. Cecile picked up a spreadsheet, folded it into a triangular shape and plunked it on Aunt Ida’s head. “There.” Cecile crossed her arms. “Es iz deyn hut. There is your hat. And that’s the closest you’ll get to a hat shop if you don’t stop this nonsense!”
No one expected Aunt Ida to own the most successful hat shop in Boston. Aunt Ida placed this pressure on herself. And by over thinking every detail, Aunt Ida paralyzed her greatest talents. Her determination to be perfect became procrastination.
And unfortunately, procrastination masquerading as pursuit-of-perfection is a common problem these days.
Glossy images, magical Facebook photographs and flawless television settings bombard our children at every turn. Social media makes kids think if something isn’t perfect, it’s worthless. Our Jewish faith encourages us to try hard, maintain high standards and self-reflect; it does not demand perfection. Sometimes, the most positive growth comes from mistakes. But we can never make mistakes if we are stuck in perfection quicksand. Obviously we should encourage our kids to plan and prepare. But sooner or later, they must act.
Aunt Ida opened the shop. She made mistakes. But she learned. Each sale was a thrill, and she stopped obsessing about customers who browsed but didn’t buy. After a few years, she moved locations and had a successful hat shop on Newbury Street. And Aunt Ida claimed it was Cecile’s paper hat and accompanying lecture that gave her the strength to act. “There is your hat” became a family catchphrase when someone was too afraid to move beyond the planning stage.
We need not put paper hats on our children’s heads. But we can help them appreciate Great-Grandmother Cecile’s belief no one should fixate on the perfect result. Process has greater value, but we can’t begin that process without taking the first step.
And that’s advice we can all hang our hats on.
This article was published in The Jewish Advocate on August 23, 2019.
