Just play
It’s so hard sometimes to remember that we have everything we need already. (Image by 愚木混株 Cdd20)
I’ve played so much guitar in the last 24 hours that I have blisters on the fingertips of my left hand.
Playing feels totally different than it used to, and not just because I’ve lost all my calluses. What’s changed is that I no longer have the weight of my ego to contend with.
Back when I was trying to make a career out of music, it was important to me to be good. What’s more, I needed to have a distinct identity as a performing musician—a brand. I got so distracted by trying to figure out who I wanted to be as a musician that I stopped playing for the joy of it.
I put such pressure on myself to improve—to find a strategy for improvement—that I didn’t really improve. Whenever I sat down to play, I needed evidence that my effort would yield results before I was willing to invest the time. That distracted me from the task at hand, and I didn’t actually make much progress. Instead of settling down to just play, I questioned whether this was even what I should be doing right now. I thought about my past, thought about my future, and looked for any possible way around the misery of the present moment. When I finally put my fingers on the instrument, I would wonder whether it was any use.
Unsurprisingly, my career as a performer failed. My career as a music teacher began to take off, however, and I found inspiration to play as a result of my teaching work. Without the worry about being good enough, music was lighter. I even played in bands for fun.
Over the years, the time I’ve spent teaching music dwindled, and I found myself playing less as well. Therefore, returning to the instrument now, I have a fresh perspective. It feels new and interesting and fun. It’s familiar but unfamiliar, like walking across your college campus after everyone you knew there has moved on. The memories and their associations have faded. I’m free.
My playing has no implications and no professional obligations. I’m not preparing for a gig or an audition. I’m doing it because I want to. I’m playing this song and that song, learning this riff and that riff, indulging in the buffet of possibilities. Ironically, I’m quickly getting noticeably better. Without all of the frustration and angst and wondering if I just don’t have what it takes, there’s a lot more time and energy for playing the same riff over and over again until it’s mastered. I’m enjoying the process.
When I sit down to watch a movie on Netflix, I often spend twenty minutes scrolling through the options, unable to commit two hours of my life to the “wrong” film. I used to do the same thing with music. I’ve seen students do it, too. Bogged down by a history of math trauma, a kid might mysteriously disappear into the bathroom for long periods, procrasti-doodle, pick a fight with a classmate or teacher, or read the same sentence over and over without comprehension. The anxiety makes him like a bee that buzzes around the garden, touching down here and there without actually pollinating anything.
The solution doesn’t have to include taking three years off from the activity. Playing music now, I understand that all of the thoughts that seemed so important (“Is this piece the best one for me to practice right now? Maybe it’s too easy/too hard/too obscure/too well-known”) were merely distractions. I didn’t need a strategy or therapy. All I needed to do was play.
Everyone who told me “just write” before I started my blog was spot on. “Just play” turns out to be pretty good advice, too. Playing is an end in itself, a calling, a hobby, a vocation, a vacation. I don’t need a plan first. I don’t need to know how it’s all going to turn out. I can just play.
The dreaded, weighted obligation of your life may have years of emotional baggage and pain associated with it. That deserves to be heard and processed and healed from. At the same time, however, there might be a literal or metaphorical guitar sitting there waiting for you. You can always pick it up and strum it and appreciate the sound it makes. There doesn’t have to be a past or future involved. It doesn’t have to mean anything about who you are and what your purpose is upon this earth. You can just play.
