I am practicing practice.
Real talk. I am a professional musician and I have gotten in maaaaybe one hour of practice in the last week total. Sixty minutes. Ok, I feel like for honesty’s sake, I should bring that number down to 45. That’s probably more accurate. And I’m only getting it in 5, 10, 15 minute increments.
And that’s OK.
Some perspective. I am 40 years old. I’ve been playing music for 31 years. I play hours each day with and for students, so I have had my hands on an instrument for at least 8 hours in the last week.
But practice is my “me” time. Practice is what I do by myself to develop, hone, and maintain my own musicianship. And because of the years of music I have under my belt, I will not lose my skills as quickly as someone who has not played as long. And while I’m not trying to play at Carnegie Hall, I would like to feel comfortable and confident on my instruments.
Right now I don’t.
I pick up my violin and my bow strokes sound harsh. And my intonation is off. I’m not focused because depression has been hanging around here inserting itself occasionally into my days. My mind is restless and I can stay at my music stand for about 10 minutes, 15 if I’m lucky, before I need to get up and move. I’m anxious.
Because we are in the middle of a GLOBAL PANDEMIC.
The number of cases number of my community members who are sick with Covid is alarmingly high for such a small area, and it is still growing. Last week when our groceries were delivered, my husband washed each plastic package with disinfectant, each banana with soap and water, threw away each cardboard container to keep us safe. My cousin who lives in Barcelona told me in no uncertain terms to wear a mask and gloves any time I’m out in public. Come home and immediately wash your clothes and shower. Nothing is normal right now and there’s no aspect of my life in which that that isn’t obvious.
As far as work goes, I am beyond blessed that I can stay home safe because I teach private lessons - online for now. And when I am teaching, nothing really comes nagging at my mind, aside from the occasional internet hiccup, and the general weirdness that is talking to everyone via a phone. I love teaching and being of service to my students. And so I focus and do what I can to keep helping them plugging on their musical journey.
But when it’s just me? Just me and my instruments and my music? I have such a challenging time focusing. It feels beyond privileged and almost frivolous to spend time simply developing my own skills when there is so much that needs caring for in the world. There is so much sickness, so much to worry about, who am I to sit here and play?
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So that’s where this morning’s practice session has found me. Fidgeting in front of Schraidiek Etudes groaning inwardly - sometimes outwardly - at how bad to my ears I’m sounding right now.
And you know what? It’s fine.
I’ve decided it’s fine because it has to be. That’s all I’ve got in me right now. I’ve decided that during these times I may not ‘practice,’ per se. I may simply practice practicing. And by that I mean I will plan what days and times I am going to set to it, lay out my pieces, get my butt in that seat for the allotted time with an instrument in my hand. I will play the notes on the page, practice paying attention, and I will call it good enough.
While I’m sitting there, I am letting go of the outcome. If I sound choppy or off key, fine. I will practice doing better, but I refuse to judge myself by this time. My victory is that I *do* the thing, not *how well* I do the thing.
My victory is that I don’t listen to that little voice saying “what are you doing? You’re supposed to be panicking or helping others ‘til you drop!” I hear that voice, and then play another line of Bach. I hear that voice and I repeat that line of Shcradiek drawing my attention back to my tone. I say, yes, this is scary and there’s nothing more I can do about it right now. So I’m going to play this again and keep honing my skills.
So I’m racking up minutes incrementally here and there practicing practice. And sometimes, something cool happens. I’ll write a funny song that has Clay and I cracking up for a week. Or I’ll learn a song to share with someone and their day is brightened. Or I’ll forget to look at the clock and get immersed in the flow state of learning for a few minutes. I don’t hold my breath for this but when it happens it’s a wonderful break from the unusualness of now.
I practice practicing because I can’t fix this disease. But neither can a doctor heal your spirit. We are each called to develop our own uniqueness that will add to the world in our own way. I hope you spend some time today honing your unique skills today with full faith that your creativity, your you-ness, adds something to the world that it would otherwise lack. Get your butt in the seat and let go of the outcome.