Back to School

Throughout my college and grad school years, I had a real sense of what my long-term, short-term, and immediate goals were. I knew when the semester would be over, and I knew what I expected to learn or accomplish in that time. Now, with no advisor to inform my next steps and no professor with a syllabus to guide my journey through a course, it's really up to me to decide those things. Since I got so much from the structure of college semesters, I decided this fall to create a course listing of 10 courses and developed a semester syllabus for each of them. Essentially, I determined what things I want to spend my time and energy on for the next few months, and I found a way to share those goals with other people.

Five of the courses have tuition fees. One is the Basic Music Composition course I'm teaching at the Rice University Glasscock School of Continuing Studies, and another is essentially advanced composition lessons. I intend to take time for my own compositional endeavors as well, of course. The other three courses with tuition are the workshops I offer through Envision Coaching Solutions. The Power of Connection is on the calendar for October, and I'm in the process of locating a venue and scheduling the other two. I'm looking forward to how these workshops will evolve, and I am excited about being able to share skills and knowledge in a way that empowers other people to claim a meaningful vision for their lives.

The five free courses are a way that I'm basically doing that in my own life. When I was able to quantify what I want to create and learn over the next few months, I was also able to open space for partnership in those efforts. Basically, I advertised my "course offerings" to people I know, letting them see what I'm going to be spending time on and inviting them to join me. I've been thinking about how those courses fit together and why those particular topics are important to me personally.

Flow is a book I've been intending to read for awhile. I put it on the course schedule to invite others to read it at the same time and hopefully benefit from what it has to offer. It's about moment-by-moment creativity, which is something I strive for in my own life and want to encourage in others. I see it potentially informing how I coach coach and compose and connect with others.

The Artist's Way is similar is some ways. I expect to learn and grow as a composer and a coach, and I will have a chance to bear witness to the creativity of others in the group. This book is much more of a workbook than Flow, and its author, Julia Cameron, is an extraordinary creativity coach.

Since I know I'll be viewing and thinking about horror films, I included Morality in Horror Films in the fall semester. This has actually turned into a very compelling project for me. I expect a book to be created in partnership with the other participants, and there will be a lot of exciting lessons in organizing the project, over and above the entertaining subject matter.

Another activity I intended to keep on my calendar is a regular in-person role-playing game. For several months, I have been researching how role-playing games can be a tool for personal and organizational development. Unfortunately, lessons learned in a game typically do not transfer to real life. So, I have been working on developing tools to bridge that gap. Essentially, I believe that the opportunity for people to benefit beyond the fun of playing an imaginative game is too great to ignore. So I am dedicating time this semester to exploring Group Dynamics and Creative Strategy in Role-Playing Games.

Finally, I included in the fall semester Basic Ritual Craft. Much has been written about the importance of ritual, and how ritual can add depth of meaning to life events. We use ritual to celebrate all sorts of special events like birthdays, anniversaries, graduations, and promotions. It's been an interest of mine for some time, and I have created some rituals for use in previous jobs. I've been accumulating resources from many different perspectives, and I want to do something more with them. I don't know where this one will lead, but I am glad I committed to set aside time for it.

So, I am headed forward with a structure that has worked for me in the past. I don't know how it will work out, but it is an exciting venture filled with things that matter to me. And I am able to explore connection with other people in all of it. The biggest shift for me is that I have accepted that I am at the helm of my own life. Kind of a big deal I guess.

Celebrating Freedom

I'm certain that the observation has been made before by many others, but a certain irony is hitting home for me today as I consider America's independence. As much as we seem to value our freedom politically, we sometimes make odd choices personally. In fact, many people I know have chosen their own form of slavery in their lives, whether it is slavery to a job, to certain relationships, to an addiction of some form or another, or just a set of beliefs about themselves.

I don't mean to say that work and relationships are bad things, but there is a potential for us to use the circumstances of our lives as chains that prevent us from truly living rather than wings that carry our most authentic and noble selves forward. Perhaps it stems from a fear of what will happen if we are accountable for our lives. When we can blame the prison of what our career demands, or focus on how our addictive behavior limits us, we don't have to take responsibility for our lives. My sense is that most people could be living much more satisfying lives if they weren't so afraid of what might happen.

For me, the slavery has been an unreasonable schedule. I load my calendar down with all of the things I want to do, and suddenly they become the things I have to do. And all of the incredible and creative plans I formulate transform into burdens. I beat myself up for not doing everything I want to get done in a day instead of celebrating the milestones I reach. And then I continue to hold myself to an unreasonable set of expectations, as if my ideas will somehow escape if I don't follow them through to fruition in this very moment. It doesn't feel very free.

And "independence" starts to take on a rather ugly connotation in that frame of mind. I want to think of it as:

"I have the freedom to follow any path I choose (within my capability), and I can choose the alliances I build along the way."

But it winds up feeling like:

"I have to do this all by myself. Now that I've started it I have to finish it. If I can't handle this, I'll be a failure."

So on this holiday weekend, I am keeping the calendar clear. I don't need to keep pushing forward and accomplishing more. My vision can have a realistic time frame. And I can enjoy creating it rather than being burdened by it. My intention now is to create more freedom in my life by being kinder to myself with the way I schedule my time. And I want to be more conscious about what prisons I'm choosing to live inside. Realizing that I'm both warden and prisoner. And that I don't have to be either.

Big Dreams, Small Steps

Although there isn't what I would call an abundance of wildlife in our neighborhood, I do see and hear a few birds from time to time. Usually, they are distant enough that they just sound like a natural part of the background. Except that one day, I heard a chirping that sounded like it was in the hall near our front door. It was very much a part of the foreground, distinct and difficult to ignore. I was certain that a bird had somehow gotten into the coat closet.

When I looked out the front window, however, I saw a little bird perched on the mailbox by our front door. I'm no ornithologist, but this was probably a sparrow or maybe a finch. It was about that size. The mailbox is one of those upright deals attached to the house next to the front door. The top of the mailbox was open, and as I watched, this little bird took a sprig of pollen and dropped it into the box. Then he flew off, only to return a moment or two later with another contribution. And he was so proud of himself that he wanted somebody to know about his accomplishment. He made so much noise in that little echoing alcove that he sounded like a whole flock.

Well, it didn't take me long to figure out that he was building a nest in the mailbox, and although I was greatly amused watching him, I knew that his residence of choice wasn't going to work for me. Before anybody got too comfortable, I put on my heartless villain persona and cleared out the mailbox. The thing was over halfway filled with pollen and twigs and leaves, so I know he had been at this for awhile. I wondered how long I had left the mailbox lid open in that tempting and inviting position. Not only was this little fellow angry, but I heard at least two other noisy little birds chastising me from the bushes as I callously tossed aside their future home and blocked any hope of reconstruction by closing the mailbox lid.

Since then, I have been very aware of whether I have closed that mailbox. I have great confidence that he found another, even more impressive nesting location, but I didn't relish dashing his hopes of raising a family in a cozy little nest by my front door. I thought about that little guy this week, though. I considered how much he had accumulated by taking just one little sprig or leaf at a time and adding to his construction. And I'm imagining that he took some care with just which perfect spring of pollen to place next in his lush abode. He created something pretty impressive by taking it one piece at a time.

That was an important lesson for me this week, even though it's one I've learned many times before. As I looked at my calendar, I saw time blocked out for big projects on various days, and yet I felt like I was spinning my wheels on some things. I was not celebrating each day, I was bemoaning how little forward motion I had created. So, I changed how I was scheduling my time. I took each big project and I decided what the next few steps were. Then I scheduled the sprig-sized tasks instead of just blocking out time to work on the nest. I can imagine that building a nest could be daunting, but going out and getting the next twig or leaf seems simple enough.

I have written before about eating the elephant one bite at a time, and I have learned time and again about strategic planning. But still I get caught sometimes in the temptation to beat myself up over not accomplishing "enough." Like that upward spiral I have described, I am encountering the same lesson from a slightly different vantage point, and hopefully I am learning it a little bit deeper this time. The result for me this time was not only a sense that I am actively creating the big dreams I have set before myself, but also that I have something to celebrate each day as I take that one next step or add that one next little sprig.

Out of the Box

Liken it to a hamster wheel, or a merry-go-round, or even a racetrack, my routine has been like a lot of people's. I would make the rounds from one corner of my box to the next to the next, until I arrived back where I started from and began a new week. Of course it was a fairly predictable journey, although I did my best to make sure there were enough things to keep me interested along the way. There were some things I wanted to do and see, someday... but somehow those things didn't fit in the box of the routine I had created.

I decided that I wanted to get out of the box. Do some of those things I had managed to keep out of my schedule. See some of those places that just weren't visible from inside the box. In all honesty, I realize that I also wanted to bring forth qualities in myself that didn't really fit in the box. Determining that those things were important to me was the first step out. At first, I tried to be and do those important things from inside the box, but it became clear to me that "comfortable" and "predictable" were not part of the vision.

Getting out of a box of any kind is an interesting endeavor. For me, there were people who were cheering me on, individuals who were excited about what I wanted to create. And there were people who were doing their best to convince me that getting out of the box was at best a bad idea and at worst downright impossible. The greatest incentive was that I kept seeing more and more possibility as I took a stand for the things that are truly important to me.

My first steps out of the box have been a bit scary. There isn't a clear rut to follow, and I don't have a map to where I want to go. With so many options and so much wide open space, I could head in any direction, wander aimlessly, get completely lost, never really reach any destination at all. But instead of worrying too much about that, I started doing the things that I wanted to do... working on recording a large piece that has been sitting on the shelf for years, getting my second string quartet into the hands of professional musicians, scheduling Power of Connection courses, and putting the pieces in place to do more collaborative work with other artists. And I have the freedom right now to apply to artist colonies and pursue other opportunities that I've been putting off. My journey can hit all of the landmarks that I want it to.

At first I was criticizing myself for not having all of the pieces in place, for not having the whole journey figured out. Now I see that I can tell true north by keeping the destination in mind, and I can know the next steps by maintaining my commitment to the things that are most important to me. I may create a different kind of routine for myself, and I may realize at some point that I am just in a bigger box. But for now, I am willing to create a pathway and keep my eyes open for unexpected opportunities along the way. I know what I want. And I know who I am.

Eating the Elephant

I have had several occasions this year for visioning, looking ahead at what I would like to have or be in my life and taking a stand or making a commitment toward it. When I really let my mind go, I can dream pretty big (although I am still conscious of limiting my visioning with my idea of being "realistic" sometimes). The problem is, there are a lot of things about which I've been dreaming. When I start making a list of all the different goals toward which my visioning leads, it's a pretty intimidating affair.

When I believe that I have to be doing it all right now, that is. What I have been doing is forcing myself forward on ten different fronts and what my body and brain are telling me is "Too much!" I focus my time so intensely on working toward so many commitments and visions that I frequently fail to enjoy what is happening right now. I'm even aware that I have written blogs on the subject before, and yet, here I am learning the lesson all over again.

So, my act of self-care now is to do a little whittling. I'm content to let some of the commitments I have made be future unknowns. I don't have to work at moving down every path all the time. My list of ten big, important goals can become three. It might even shift week by week, or maybe even from one day to the next. I don't actually know what it will look like, but I do know that I will need to check in with myself a little more honestly if I want a different result.

I've been convinced that I have to eat the elephant(s) one bite at a time. Now I am remembering that sometimes I prefer game hen.

Valuing Play

Despite efforts to the contrary, I occasionally slip into a state of driven-ness. There is so much I want to accomplish, and there are so many steps I can take right now toward those goals. I want to be writing music, I want to provide a high quality of work at my job, I want to play some challenging piano accompaniments well for some high school musicians, I want to be sending my music out to get more performances, I want to continue along my path to mentor, coach, and trainer with More To Life, and I want to be engaged and fully present in my marriage and friendships. Just to list the important things. These are the long-term, continual goals that embody some portion of my passions and involve many little steps between milestones.

I plan when I will take time to play and relax into my weekly schedule, but even that can become driven. How much time do I have left until that lunch appointment? Am I getting enough done? Should I be doing something else with this time? Is it time to go on to the next thing? Crazy. All the "I want to"s slip so easily into "I have to."

So, I've been sick for a few days. It's not the swine flu, but my energy has been way down and a fever has had my head pounding. Instead of tackling the week with my typical m.o., I let my body's aches justify taking it easy. I relaxed. I enjoyed some stillness. And (since I'm not contagious), I've spent a lot more time hanging out with one of my friends than I typically get to. I have done a little bit to keep progressing toward my goals, but I haven't overexerted myself, and I haven't let accomplishing things become high priority. The amazing thing is that I have been able to be honest about what I actually want to do with my time, and I've been doing it. And it's been enough.

Stifling the Muse?

I have recently been accompanying a lot of standard repertoire for high school musicians. Some of the pieces are rather difficult (especially the ones that have an entire orchestral part reduced to a piano without leaving any notes out!), some of them are harmonically simplistic but technically flashy, and some of them just strike me as mediocre pieces of music.

There are a couple, though, that really grab me, and I think: I wish I had written this... I could have written this... I can write something as compelling and as beautiful and as fun as this... Why don't I?

Not very long ago, I would have said that self-doubt and fear of not being good enough were the biggest obstacles. When I check that with myself now, though, it doesn't ring true. I honestly believe that if I created the time and managed my energy for the task, I have plenty of music to compose. And although I am still a little caught up in the effort it takes to get a piece performed, I have been sending out compositions to contests and calls for scores for long enough now that I realize there will be ample opportunities to seek or create a performance once a piece is written.

So what am I waiting for? Well, nothing really. My days and weeks are packed with other things: my job, my marriage, accompanying, More To Life, life in general. I am working toward creating more space in my life for composing, but creating that space takes effort in and of itself. So I beat myself up for not making composing more of a priority right now. A part of me believes that I'm just being impatient and another part believes that I'm just being lazy.

Sometimes, I can't win with myself, even when everyone around me is acknowledging the value of what I am creating day to day.