The January Effect

Every year we all line up, make those goals/resolutions/decisions and march bravely forward for a week or two or four until we lose focus or get sick or life happens and then hang our heads and resolve to do better next year. All of this may even take place before we’re even finished cleaning up after or paying for Christmas.
  What if we looked at it from the other end? What if we put our action in the proper focus? What if we put the process in a better order? What if we asked better questions?
Why did I gain weight?
What damages my relationships with family and friends?
What has prevented me from seeing what’s happening?
  So many times we trot out our same solutions for what we think is wrong in our lives only to see them fail year by year. Perhaps we might consider doing some of these things. The following are a list of possibilities in no particular order.
1. Write down changes we want to see in our circumstances and then intentionally watch our actions to see how they play into the creation of the dynamic we desire to change.
Ex. I have too much stuff- I buy things when I’m down to create excitement and fun.
2. What action have I committed that I regret and have never resolved?  How much of my energy is it sucking. What opportunities is it blocking?
3. What trauma or hurt have I stored but never processed? Phobias, abuse, accidents, injuries all impact our health and choices.
4. Begin journaling our emotions and watching for patterns.
So many times our stress, our struggles or our difficulties cycle around until we decide to be honest with ourselves. When we look at ourselves with honesty and compassion, lasting change is available. May our 2019 be a season of growth and learning for us all!!

Be Like Bill

 

Once upon a time there was a family of musicians. That’s right, a whole family of them. Some of them liked guitar, some liked piano and some like harmonica. Though every member of this family started with a favorite instrument, all soon chose more instruments to learn because it was so much fun to play.
  Over time they all took lessons or watched YouTube videos on how to play and recitals came and went and more babies came and thankfully stuck around and sometimes the practicing was patchy and sometimes the practice was really noisy and sometimes the mommy musician (Henceforth referred to as MM) thought she would lose her mind.
  Through all of this the mommy musician watched and hoped and prayed and practiced. Sometimes she played at night after the kids were in bed and sometimes she practiced instead of cleaning or taking a shower or other things that needed done but all the time she wanted to someday play well.
    But mostly she wanted to have her kids play well. She knew she had heard many people talk about how they had few regrets but no one had ever said “I sure wish my mother hadn’t made me take lessons and learn piano.” (or whichever instrument) she had remembered how much she hated to play songs she didn’t like,  so she vowed to purchase music her kids wanted to play, instruments they wanted to play and a good teacher for them.
   As time went on, she continued to practice because you shouldn’t ask your children to do things you don’t do and leading by example is always best. An accordion, a baritone Ukulele, a violin all came to hang on the walls because she liked them, loved to play them and looked forward to practice time. As her children grew, the piano and then violin lessons began and when a beautiful and fabulous musical Goddess presented herself to teach anything your heart desired, other instruments became a possibility and the cello, ukulele and banjo appeared in the music room.
  Though the beautiful music played at home was much enjoyed and spontaneous jam sessions with multiple siblings was cause for celebrating, the best practice always happened when preparing for a recital or other event. Performance lends a certain urgency but performing is a strange animal.
   The music so carefully prepared may look like a foreign language when moved from the music stand at home to a new stage or venue and the musician may suddenly develop strange tremors, spasms, vision issues, amnesia, and even nausea. Some are affected more than others and this Mommy musician had a terrible case of performancitis. Now matter how well prepared she may have been, it seemed that some musical calamity was likely to strike if she felt any hint of criticism from anyone present, real or imagined. It could be that the grouchy looking lady on the third row just has fierce eyebrows and isn’t really a former postal worker/piano teacher with anger management issues but the MM would suddenly develop a great case of glued fingers that play very stickily indeed.
   Her children didn’t appear to have this strange malady because they inherited some very serious calm- under- pressure genes from their father but nevertheless performances were nerve racking for the MM.
    Near the home of this musical family there is a tourist attraction and each year the volunteers who staff the festival that takes place there would ask this musical family to play for about forty minutes on the first day of the Festival at 9 am. After the first two years of playing folk music there, the    family realized that the only audience that showed up that early was their grandparents and a few friends and as they were there on a volunteer basis it became a perfect opportunity to allow the smaller children to take a turn on the stage performing.
  After asking permission to include the inexperienced performers, the family prepared and played songs together and just enjoyed the time. Every year for the first few years the performers scheduled afterward failed to appear and the family was asked to continue playing for another hour and sometimes two. With some fun fiddle songs, some old favorites, some western movie classics and some instrumental pieces, the time passed and the pressure of performing eased.
  Until one day, after five years of supportive encouragement from the sound techs ( also volunteers) there was a new program. The staff changed and a new person was put in charge. This gentleman was new and had been a member of a famous choir. When the family arrived to play, as invited, there was a new and very disapproving face.
  The same audience of grandparents and Aunt and cousins had been joined by some of the people who had heard the family play in previous years and come back. There was a few new faces and though it was quiet as the early morning warranted and there were a few hiccups as any performance with small children can be expected to have the MM thought it went very well.
  The Choir Man did not. He rose and made an announcement over the mic, He said “Well, now that that’s finished ...Ladies and Gentlemen, come and hear some real musicians.”  The MM was  surprised and dismayed. Perhaps he felt that fiddle music was not cultured enough. Perhaps he felt that small children playing their pieces with some stumbling as five year olds may do was not acceptable in public, or an embarrassment to his carefully planned program. The MM was too stunned to even say a word. 
   The family quickly packed up their instruments and cleared the stage, very much missing the friendly sound tech who had told them every year that their best efforts was his favorite part of the entertainment for the weekend. As the family walked away, the hours of practice ran through the MM’s mind only to be interrupted by the very quiet and subdued voice of her  little boy, one of his first performances just behind him.”Mom, what did he mean,’real’ musicians? I felt kind of bad when he said that. Does that mean that we aren’t real musicians?” She struggled with words for a moment and then finally said, “ Perhaps our music isn’t what he’s used to and not what he expected. Do you play the fiddle? Did you practice hard?” The little boy nodded. “Then you ARE a musician!” The MM really just wanted to walk over and punch the man in the face for his tactlessness and poor manners but that’s bad for the hands and certainly bad for the children to see so she sheparded the children home. The joy in playing music had been dampened for that little boy. His excitement, so necessary for the beginning stages of any new endeavor,  took a hit and his desire to practice was greatly limited by his doubts. 
  Which brings us to Bill. Bill comes on the scene a few years later. Bill invited the family to his garage to Jam. Bill’s garage is decorated with old time Rock N’Roll and vintage cars. Bill might not be a member of a famous choir, he might enjoy a cold beer when barbequing in the back yard. Bill might be an old guy with great taste in music but that’s not what MM  loves most about Bill. On this particular night, when the musical family hesitantly unloaded their violins, ukes, guitars and harmonicas (well, okay, you don’t unload a harmonica. That’s the beauty of them!) and walked back to Bill’s garage for the first time they didn’t know what to expect. What they got  was a warm welcome, a personal interest in their names, where they were from and what they liked to play. What they learned is that Bill and friends of Bill are the funnest group of musicians to play with. They can pick up any melody line, sort the chords and jump in with any favorite song you throw at them and go for hours. They can draw out a shy musician who only came to watch, but goes home excited to practice, and with a determination to learn Bill’s favorite song. They love young people and want to pass on the joy of music and performing to the next generation. They pause in the middle of the song to nod and give a compliment when a  part sounds really good and a chorus of appreciation goes  up when you really nail something. 
   In this group  you sit in a circle and each person takes a turn to choose the song they want and play. If anyone else knows it they jump in and sing harmony or play along. Anything and everything you like, people of all ages and tastes and a whole lot of fun is what you get. The family couldn’t believe how the time flew and didn’t want to go even after four hours, though an hours drive was ahead of them. The whole musical family practiced and played and laughed together with a whole new energy and interest for months. 
  So I beg you wise persons: 
1. Clap loudly for the beautiful pieces played flawlessly and advanced talent but clap even louder for the struggling musician, the beginner, the self doubting and especially for the severe case of performancitis.
2. Remember that it takes guts to stand in front of you, hours of practice happened before that moment and even if you can play better, they need your encouragement. And if you don’t play at all you may have no idea how difficult that piece is, how hard to get that tone and no idea how to produce it by yourself.
3. You have no idea what unkind things have been said to them before and how insecure they may be about their role as a musician. 
4. Everyone needs a Bill.
BE LIKE BILL 

*Note - The iPad has a personality disorder today and I can’t get italics to give up so thank you for your patience.
**I realize that we learn as much from our critics as from our friends and we have much room for improvement, so there’s that. 
***I am writing about a personal experience here but writing in the third person was just fun today. 
UPDATE -I met Bill at a Christmas party this weekend and he greeted me with a big smile, gently insisted that I come up and sing a few numbers with his band that was providing the entertainment. My daughter and I sang and had a blast. I love Bill!