Showing up and saying less

I hope she doesn’t feel like she has to smile all the time. (Image by Oberholster Venita)

When Eclectic Music started doing music lessons on Zoom, it was a bit of an adjustment for everyone.

Now, more than two years later, lots of teachers and students love the Zoom lessons and will never go back to doing them in person. But at the start, lots of us felt like we had to recreate the feeling of being in the same room as our student.

And that — on top of the ongoing stress and uncertainty of the pandemic — was freaking exhausting.

One of my teachers, a gifted singer and performer we’ll call Maria, was working especially hard. An effusive, vivacious person, the effort Maria made to keep up the usual enthusiasm and energy she brought to every lesson had begun to take its toll on her.

In a recording of one of Maria’s lessons, I noticed that her student, a six-year-old girl, was not returning the intensity of Maria’s attention. But the child wasn’t checked out. She was perfectly happy. She simply didn’t notice how hard Maria was trying to engage her. She was just showing up, playing the piano, and answering questions.

I suggested to Maria that she could do the same. Instead of pushing so hard to make a connection through the computer screen, she could just show up. She could match the student’s energy instead of trying to boost it. In doing so, she might actually find it easier to connect.

Maria, always open to feedback, decided to try it. Instead of ramping up, she toned herself down.

Maria quickly realized that this approach was actually a way of ensuring that her students — all of her students — got her best. Teaching lesson after lesson was much more sustainable if she wasn’t giving 110% on every single one. Her last lesson of the day could be just as good as her first.

She was quieter and less effusive, but she was more present. She was saying less, but her students were better able to hear what she was saying. And Maria was better able to listen to them.

Maria began to experiment with showing up and saying less in other areas of her life. She realized that the key was actually confidence. She didn’t trust that it was enough to sit quietly and be there when her student (or her friend) needed her. She wasn’t sure if she was enough.

But the more Maria tested this new way of engaging with others, the more she saw that, in fact, she didn’t need to justify her value by being big and bold and full of ideas. She discovered that she had nothing to prove. She told herself, “You are enough. You can handle what comes at you,” and found that it was true.

Teaching lessons was easier, and she was doing a better job. Life became easier and less stressful. All from developing the confidence to practice showing up and saying less.

So many of us absorb the idea, somehow, that our value is in what we do or produce. But, of course, we are so much more than machines made of flesh. Who we are, and how we are able to share that with others, is what really counts.

Some of the most magical experiences I’ve had occurred when someone was able to show that they truly saw me. It’s even happened on Zoom. It wasn’t what they said or did that mattered so much — it was their very being. The person created a stillness that invited me to slow down and be present, too.

This stillness and presence is something I am learning how to do for others. I believe it is a gift that we can give to each other, conveying by example that it’s okay for all of us to just show up in the way that feels most manageable, comfortable, and sustainable. We don’t have to let it all hang out, but we don’t have to put on a show, either. Like Maria, we might be overestimating what other people need from us. Maybe we can give less, and it’s still enough.