Tuning Slide 4.52- Perception is Reality (from Year 1)

Weekly Reflections on Life and Music

(I’m taking four weeks off from new posts while I do a number of things, not all related to this blog. In these four weeks I am posting some from the very first year of The Tuning Slide. Some of it will be to refresh my thoughts, and some of it will just ground what I am doing in the purposes of the blog. This one was post #1.12 on 11/18/2015.)

---

Don't be afraid,
just play the music.
― Charlie Parker

As a counselor, one thing I always have to keep in mind is that when someone sees reality a certain way, they believe it. For them it IS reality. It doesn't matter whether it is true or imagined. Reality is often what we perceive it to be. So when they come into my office or group for therapy I have to start where they are- even if I know it to be false or mis-perceived.
As we pick up our horn to practice or to perform, what we consider reality will govern what we do next.

For years I believed I could not play a solo.

I was right. I couldn't play a solo. I would always mess it up. Even though I kept at it in church, for example, if I had a organ or piano and trumpet duet I never, ever got it right. Never. Something would always go wrong. I would miss a count and therefore come in early or late. I would miss a sharp or flat and play a discordant note. Any one of a number of things happened every time. Most people didn't notice it as significant most of the time, but I did.

"See," I would say to myself, "you can't play a solo."
I was proving the truth of Henry Ford's statement:

Whether you think you can,
or you think you can't--
you're right.
― Henry Ford

Fortunately I loved playing trumpet so much I never allowed it to stop me from trying or from continuing to play in bands. I would avoid solos, even in band. My trumpet soloing above even 55 other musicians would send my heart into high gear, the adrenaline would flow, the fight or flight mechanism would kick in- and I would mess it up.

Over and over the refrain- you can't solo, you can't solo, you can't!

My perception of reality was true- even if it wasn't.

Note that this was not a fear of being in front of people. I have been in public for 50 years preaching, radio DJ, cable TV host. I could stand and talk to hundreds of people and not be nervous. Put a trumpet in my hand and make me solo in front of a handful- forget it. I can't do that. So said my perception of reality.

So what happened, esp. since I wouldn't be writing about it if it hadn't changed?

My first step was to work with a teacher. Just to play in his presence was a big step. He gave me some assignments; I worked on them; I improved.

Second, I was invited to join a brass quintet. When there are only five of you, each part is, in essence, a solo. We had a lot of fun practicing and developing a repertoire. When we finally did play in public performance I did okay, but I still messed up somewhere in each performance. Again, not always noticeable and never as badly as I had before, but I was building confidence in myself- and reality was shifting.

Third, I began playing some first parts in our community band. I found that most of the time I could do that! But that wasn't a solo. Again- perceptions were changing internally.

Fourth, one year ago this week the community band had a concert and with a solo on one number. My teacher was also playing first and he told me that I was playing it. I didn't argue. I figured that if he thought I was capable, maybe I was.

We worked on it in my lessons. I could play it very well- at home or in the lesson. But not at any rehearsal. Never.

I can't play solos!

But I refused to back down. (Stubborn ol' cuss!) The director never suggested I give it to someone else. The night before the concert we had our dress rehearsal and ...

Nope, still not right.

Concert night. The piece comes up. ("Valdres March" by Hanssen) It starts with my trumpet solo. I do okay. A little weak, but not particularly strong, either. Maybe I can solo? Maybe?

We get to the end and approach the D.C. back to the top- and the solo. One last chance. As we move along toward the D.C. I have a conversation with myself.

• This music is supposed to be fun.
• You're not having fun.
• Have fun.
• You can do it.
• Screw it.
• Play the damn thing!!!

Yep- it worked.

I nailed it. My teacher gave me a thumbs up!

The first solo I played well in almost 50 years.

Reality made a seismic shift and I was now a "real" trumpet player again.

After the first of the year I will be doing some posts on the idea of "The Inner Game" about how we sabotage ourselves with a "Self One" and a "Self Two". That's what this is really about. It starts with our perception of reality. What we believe is what guides us. Reality or not, if we see it that way, that's the way it is. Don't confuse me with facts.

Unless you want to learn to do it differently. I didn't realize that's what I was doing when I started this journey about five or six years ago; when I said yes to the quintet or decided to take lessons again.

So,

• Get out of yourself and seek support and new insights.
• Stretch yourself. Take some chances and risks. All you can do is make a mistake. It's not the end of the world.
• Keep practicing.
• Hear the perception of reality that is keeping you from doing what you can do.
• Then do it.

That's what I did over the years in my life. It works with any task I think I can or can't do. The trumpet isn't any different.

And it is supposed to be fun. Enjoy it!

(BTW: Thanks to Warren, Steve, and Mike for sticking with me through these past years!)

Tuning Slide 4.46- Being Free #2

Weekly Reflections on Life and Music

If you keep doing what you’ve always done, you will keep getting what you’ve always gotten.
— Various

Last week I started a series based on a blog post at Planet of Success. It is about 10 powerful ways to free yourself if you are stuck. I took the concepts and riffed on them from my own experiences in the last 8-10 years to overcome self-defeating attitudes that kept me from changing and growing in my trumpet playing. Last week I looked at the first three:
1. Face your fears
2. Break your routine
3. Effect change, one step at a time

This week we take the next three and see where they can take us as we work to keep from staying stuck. Again, my thoughts are in italics.

4. Overcome the perception of impossibilities
✓ Feeling stuck in life … paralyzes us and diminishes our ability to see exciting new opportunities. Instead, we feel as if the options at hand are impossible to execute. If every solution you can think of seems impossible to accomplish, you’ll get even more stuck. … no progress can be made. nstead of getting trapped by these thinking patterns, try to explore your options… [T]ry to find the one solution that you like the most and commit to the decision.

It is not impossible to start a new career at least twice in one’s lifetime. Nor is it really too late to do it. I have seen many people over the years just kind of waste away into retirement- and spend many years moving toward it. It is not impossible to find new opportunities. As I have talked about with my trumpet playing, I was convinced that it would be impossible at my age (any age after about 40), to do anything about my shortcomings. Fortunately, I was wrong.

5. Be honest with yourself
✓ If we do want to break free from being stuck, it’s necessary to be honest with ourselves. Astonishingly, we almost always have the answer within ourselves. It might take some time to discover it, but it’s always there. The problem is that we do not act upon this knowledge. We prefer to keep this answer locked within ourselves.
Have the courage to at least think about the possible solution. It might be challenging to even consider acknowledging that you took a wrong path in life. But ultimately, it might prove to be better than suffering from this decision for the rest of your life.

Honesty. I have talked about this as part of the trio of honesty, openness, and willingness. The first honesty is to call BS on yourself when you say “I can’t do that!” or when we say “I don’t know what to do. It’s beyond me!” Neither is true. Because I had that moment of uncertainty at age 18, it does not mean I can’t do it now. Because I am trained in one area of life doesn’t mean I can’t get new training in my mid-40s or mid-60s for that matter. Admit that the biggest obstacle to getting where you want to go is YOU. That’s the first step of courage. The second is to say, “… and I don’t have to continue to block my own way!”

6. Change your perspective
✓ When we feel stuck in life, we most certainly do not have a good overview of the situation. Unfortunately, the feeling of being stuck in a rut can heavily affect our perception of life. It’s time to broaden your perspective!

▪ Stop walking the same path you’ve always chosen.
▪ Explore new perspectives by taking other paths.
▪ Ask yourself what your real goals are.
▪ Explore what you’re passionate about.
▪ Discover what it is that truly energizes you.
▪ Find your true purpose in life.
▪ Challenge yourself to have a vision for your life.

Discovering your vision and the pursuit of your passions can create a powerful drive. It can help you to liberate yourself from the vicious circle of being stuck.

That list above says more than I can absorb in a few moments. In essence, it replays that old cliche that if you keep doing the same things you will keep getting the same results. As long as I said I can’t change, that people my age can’t do that, someone with my history will fail, or I don’t know how that could happen- it won’t happen. Nothing will change if I don’t change. Nothing will improve if I don’t take the steps to make the change and improvement. That means looking at life from a whole new angle and finding out what I really want to see happen.

Remembering the first three things needed to get unstuck:
1. Face your fears
2. Break your routine
3. Effect change, one step at a time.

These were the prelude to everything else. I remember being asked to join a brass quintet, which I had never done in over 40 years of playing. (All three of those.) I remember deciding to get a trumpet teacher and then asking him. (All three of those.) I remember sitting with my teacher and him mentioning music camps and my then signing up for the Shell Lake Adult Big Band Workshop. (All three of those.) That’s when this week’s list came into play.

1. Things were no longer impossible. I did things I had never done before and began to see results, changes in my playing and increases in my skills.
2. I got honest with myself. I had been getting in my own way, but I also saw where I needed help in improvements. So I asked for help. My fears had been lessened, I had broken my routine of decades. I was taking it slowly, one issue at a time.
3. My perspective was changing. For one I began to see my third career in life included music. I was actually beginning to see myself as a “musician” and not having to excuse it away. Getting involved at Shell Lake with Mr. Baca’s trumpet workshop then gave these three items even more power and direction. I could see a vision, a movement, an honesty that was refreshing and exciting!

These first six things, interacting with each other and my new experiences, were life-changing on a surface level. That is where all change begins. We act our way into a new way of thinking, one small step or change or action at a time. After that, the changes get internalized, normalized. But that’s for next week.

Last week I asked you to take time this past week to find a fear that needed to be confronted or something in your routine that can be changed. Did you find a way to make a change? In the next week

• begin to look at those from last week and how your perception is changing,
• how you are no longer getting in your own way.
• What are you still saying is impossible?

Take it deeper- and keep moving forward.

Tuning Slide 4.44- How to Lose Your Direction

Weekly Reflections on Life and Music

Every leader will hit a series of plateaus in their lives. The key is not to stay there, because settling on a plateau can easily lead to an elongated season of comfort. Being comfortable is one of the leader's worst enemies.
― Gary Rohrmayer

Every year on Memorial Day I am taken back fifty plus years to a cool May morning along the Susquehanna River in north central Pennsylvania. I wrote about it the first year of the Tuning Slide and repeated it since. It was the year I hit a plateau that has taken YEARS to move away from. That moment colored everything that came after it- and became the distorting lens that changed how I saw what had been before it.

There was a time somewhere about half a century ago when I was your typical high school trumpet player. I no doubt believed I was invincible, the top of the band's musical food chain. My sight-reading ability was somewhat lacking, but one evening of working on it at home usually fixed that and I was able to exhibit the skill that my first chair position would expect.

I don't remember any hints of uncertainty or doubts about what I could do as a trumpet player. I was lead trumpet in our stage musical. I organized a small combo to play at our school talent show and even made an arrangement of the Beatles' Help! as our number. I was lead in a trumpet quartet that played at many local churches. I was also lead in a Tijuana Brass-style group that played at both the local pool and at our town's annual Fourth of July fest. I knew I would never be a professional musician- that wasn't in my plans. I did know that I loved being a trumpet player.

I had what I might later have called "mojo."

For fifty years, I have considered Memorial Day as the day I lost it. True or not, what we believe is often "truth" if not "fact." If we believe it, it is real.

It was a mostly clear, cool morning. I remember a misty fog along the river, not unusual on a spring morning like that. The sun was breaking through as I joined a group of veterans at the corner of Main and Allegheny Streets on the bank of the West Branch of the Susquehanna River.

Memorial Day always began at the river. This was a time to remember the sailors who had died in service. Since we were only a couple decades past the end of World War II the memories were personal, real- not yet part of history. They were still at the edge of current events.

It was a simple ceremony. I don't know what was said. I remember what was done. A reading and a prayer, and then a wreath was tossed solemnly into the river. The honor guard rifles faced up-river and proceeded with the traditional salute. The volley comes from the battlefield tradition of three-volleys to indicate that the dead had been removed from the battlefield and properly cared for.

The sounds echoed from the mountains and it was my turn.

Taps.

My notes felt right. They flowed as I wanted them to. They moved up-river following the smoke from the volleys. It was an honor to be called to do this. My friend Steve, the second chair, was stationed a short distance away to play the echo. It was all moving and appropriate. It was finished.

Steve and I then joined the rest of our high school marching band for the parade. It would be our last official parade having just graduated. The parade moved up the main east-west street through town. We marched past what had been my Dad's pharmacy and then our house. We went by the junior high school where a Winged Victory statue remembered World War 1 sacrifices. Just past my grandfather's house a small curve in the street took us to the left-turn that led into the cemetery.

The band took its "parade rest"-style position for the ceremony.

My memory of that day is fixed with what happened next. The three-volley honor salute was repeated. It was not the first time I had been in this cemetery and heard that. My dad, a veteran of WW II, had died about 18 months earlier. That volley had echoed from the hilltop cemetery on that cold December day. Now I was standing but twenty yards or so from his and my mother's graves. I was focused and ready to go.

Taps is not difficult to play. It is ingrained in every trumpet player's mind. Its haunting sound is as familiar as our own names. Steve had gone to the hilltop behind us for his echo response to my call.

Perhaps I was nervous, or, at the other extreme, over-confident. I don't remember any performance anxiety at that time. This was not my first public solo performance. Most likely I was just careless.

Three notes in I choked. Everything I knew about performing disappeared. I had forgotten to let the water out of the horn. The sound started to gurgle, the notes lost their clear intensity. My mind went into auto-pilot, which 50 years ago did not include the simple act of letting the water out in one of the pauses at the end of a phrase.

I finished with the gurgles mocking me even more intensely when Steve's echo sounded so perfect to my ear. I was upset at myself. I had let the veterans down. I had let my father down.

I was ashamed.

I had one more opportunity. There was one more short parade that afternoon in nearby Salladasburg. There was one more cemetery with Taps.

That, too, became an embarrassment. I flubbed a note at the beginning and, yes, I again forgot to let the water out. That, I am sure, was more nerves and, even more likely, inexperience.

But it became my experience. It became, for me, a defining moment in my musical life. It made me, in my mind, a sloppy trumpet player.

One day in May 1966 set a standard of self-understanding that I have spent over half a century trying to change. I added my low sight-reading skills to it three months later when I did not get into the marching band at college. I never thought until recently that they simply didn't need another freshman trumpet player at that point and it had nothing to do with my ability. The Memorial Day experience was already coloring my personal lowering expectations and was undermining my self-understanding as a musician.

This story encompasses so much of what I have written about in these now four years of The Tuning Slide. Part of it has been to exorcise those ghosts and discover the musician I am. It has worked- and continues to work. I am playing today at a level I would never have thought possible. Musically, with the trumpet, I have found my voice. It is not impossible. You are never too old to take new directions and find the truth that will set you free to sing your song.

Next week we will look at how to move beyond these plateaus, real or imagined. Until then, let's go practice.

4.27 Tuning Slide- More Time In the Zone

Weekly Reflections on Life and Music

When the zone calls, you must listen. You never know how long being in the zone lasts. It is a cardinal rule - you must take advantage of every second that you are in the zone.

― John Passaro

There is a family story that my wife has enjoyed telling since, well, for a long time. It goes back to right after we were married. It was a wondrous Sunday afternoon and we were doing nothing. We were both in the living room. I was reading and she was doing something. I was aware she was talking to me. I would make a sound of assent and keep reading. Suddenly she stopped and was laughing.

“Did you hear what I just said?” she asked.

“Uh….[pause] [guiltily] No, what?”

“I said that the pink elephants are coming down the street trampling on all the flowers.”

Which I had said “Uh, huh” to without hearing.

I didn’t know about “flow” at that time. But I was in a state of flow in my reading. A few months ago I talked about flow as part of Barry Green’s music mastery pathway of “concentration.” He called it the “spirit of the zone. In that post I wrote:

Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi named the concept of “flow in 1975 and been widely referred to in any different fields. It is also known as “being in the zone.” Flow

is the mental state of operation in which a person performing an activity is fully immersed in a feeling of energized focus, full involvement, and enjoyment in the process of the activity. In essence, flow is characterized by complete absorption in what one does, and a resulting loss in one's sense of space and time. (Link)

Requirements for flow can be:
◆ Intense and focused concentration on the present moment
◆ Merging of action and awareness
◆ A loss of reflective self-consciousness
◆ A sense of personal control or agency over the situation or activity
◆ A distortion of temporal experience, one's subjective experience of time is altered
◆ Experience of the activity as intrinsically rewarding

Very clearly I was in some kind of zone, or even state of flow as I was reading. I still experience that feeling when involved in a book- I am hyper-focused, I am not all that aware of what is happening around me, time is lost, and it is intrinsically rewarding. You can begin to see why this can apply to playing or listening to music, I am sure.

Digging a little deeper in that Wikipedia article I came across Owen Schaffer’s list (he studied under Csikszentmihalyi.) In 2013 he proposed 7 conditions for flow that summarize the above list:
◆ Knowing what to do
◆ Knowing how to do it
◆ Knowing how well you are doing
◆ Knowing where to go
◆ High perceived challenges
◆ High perceived skills
◆ Freedom from distractions
(Link)

Again the connections with music are hopefully clear. One thing it means is that to get into flow is not just something that happens on its own. It is not some magical, mysterious event that occurs when Self 2 gets in charge. Even the best Self 2 cannot get in the zone playing trumpet if it doesn’t know anything about the trumpet, music, or whatever. The Inner Game doesn’t just happens, it is planned for, developed, and, of course, the result of deliberate, focused practice.

Flow can come from, as the list indicates:
◦ Knowledge from learning (being taught), experience, and time. (What to do and how to do it.)
◦ Self-awareness and trust in Self 2 as you have grown and improved. (How well you are doing and where to go next.)
◦ Moving beyond the basics and pushing yourself to new heights that you know you can achieve. (High challenge and perception of your skills.)
◦ Focus, focus, focus, or mindfulness, mindfulness, mindfulness. (Freedom from distractions.)

When these conditions occur whether in the practice room, rehearsal hall, or on stage, the possibility for flow increases. Of course you still have to pay attention. We cannot forget in a performance that we are not observers. I remember a concert a few years ago when the band was playing an incredibly wonderful piece. I had a long passage of rests, probably at least 32 if not 64 measures. I fell into a listening zone (as opposed to a performance zone)- and almost missed my entry. But, as a result of working hard at knowing the piece and some of the above conditions, I heard the music moving to where I was to come it. It was intuitive as I picked up the horn and played. (But it was close!)

The Inner Game and Flow both show that “attitude” in an important piece of moving in the right direction. Attitude and action go together. Most of the time before we get into flow it is the actions that propel us forward. The old saying is that it is easier to act your way into a new way of thinking than think your way into a new way of acting. That can be called developing a habit, or experiencing the joys of what you want, rewiring the brain, or just plain grit. Attitude must come. If you continue to think you can’t- you won’t.

I found the following list on the Website “Play in the Zone” that we can take into the practice room and rehearsal hall to get us ready for Self 2 to work us into the zone.

9 Attitude Tweaks That Hold the Secret to Playing Your Best
1) Play freely. Don’t play to “not play badly”
2) Love the challenges
3) Accept what happens rather than getting frustrated or upset
4) Don’t care too much
5) Trust in yourself
6) Hear each note clearly before you play it
7) Be decisive, and commit fully to every phrase
8) Be relaxed about nerves
9) Focus on process, not outcome
(Link)

Three of those stand out for me this week.
• Play freely Don’t play to “not play badly.”
⁃ What a way for me to undermine and sabotage my goals, my practice, and especially my sound. I can only play as good as I can today, of course, but I have to play as good as I can today. It is not healthy to say “Well, as long as I don’t suck too badly…” I can’t go there. It won’t work. I will always suck.

• Love the challenges!
⁃ Sometimes the challenge is playing the Arban’s single tonguing exercises as well as I can play them, good sound, clarity, etc. Sometimes it is playing Arban’s Characteristic study #1 better than I did last time. Both are challenges. If I don’t take the challenge of the beginning of the Arban’s Book (or Clarke, Goldman, Getchell, etc.) I will never get to the challenges later in the books.

• Focus on process, not outcome!
⁃ Process does not mean doing it mechanically. It always means playing musically with good sound. Those are assumed. But how do I improve my skills if I don’t have a plan and a direction to what I am doing. Process, the steps and stages from here to there?

Which of the above are things that are important for you? These are all the marks of being a good student of your instrument. I will look at more of that next week and do some expanding on this.

Until then- build your attitude and enjoy what you are doing.

The Tuning Slide: 2.18- Failing Forward

Weekly Reflections on Life and Music

Google goal-setting. There can be:

• Seven types of goals;
• Four types of goals;
• lifetime, long-term and short-term goals;
• outcome, process, or performance goals….

On and on it can go. Goals need to be

• Specific and achievable;
• Measurable and realistic…
• etc., etc., etc.....

As we start a new year we often hear about all those great new year’s resolutions- that are only too soon forgotten. Anyone who has been a regular at a gym will tell you the worst time of the year is January when all those people who have decided to get healthy show up. Give them a month or so and things will quiet down.

Resolutions, though, aren’t goals. Resolutions are ways of wishing and hoping. That’s why they usually fail. And when they fail, we give up on them. Guess I’m not going to do THAT this year. We move on.

Perhaps that is one of the greatest differences between resolutions and goals. When we set a goal, we are also setting in place the possibility of failure- and if we are honest- we know that. But when we set goals, the failures are planned for.

Several of the faculty talked about some of this at last year’s Shell Lake workshop. I went back to my notebook from the week and came across this series of notes and reflections on the important place “failures” have in helping us reach our goals:

• Goals take time. They have failure moments along the way. Success is moving through the failures and using them for your benefit. The famous remark from Thomas Edison that he didn’t have failures, he just knew many things that don’t work.

• How did your failures help shape you? I was set on being an engineer when I graduated from high school in 1966. Everyone who had any kind of chance to go to college in those years was directed toward engineering or science. The space race spurred it; American pride accelerated it. After two years it was more than clear that I was not cut out to be an engineer. It wasn’t how I thought. Some of my family saw that as failure. I was not going to make it in the world with a degree in political science. I was a disappointment.

• Figure out a different way. Which is what I eventually did. I didn’t give up on life or whatever. Over the next four years I finished college and found something that did fit the way I work and think. I entered seminary and went on to a very satisfying, challenging, and exciting career.

• Change your perspective. Management guru John Maxwell wrote a whole book about this- Failing Forward: Turning Mistakes Into Stepping Stones for Success. Failure is in giving up, not getting back up. Success- at its very basic is continuing to put one foot in front of the other, even when it doesn’t look like it’s going the right direction.

• There are valleys between mountaintops. That is one of the more subtly profound statements I wrote in my notebook. The metaphorical mountaintops lead to valleys. The valleys are the places where we can learn to take the next step toward what we saw from the mountaintop.

• To realize you suck at something- you’re on the right track. It was when I heard a recording of our quintet and the poor quality of my sound that I realized I needed to do something. I didn’t hear that when I was playing live. The same thing happened when I heard my solo on Basin Street Blues with the big band for the first time. In my ear- it sucked! I didn’t like it. It had no life. It sounded tired. If I had never heard that and realized how poor it sounded, I might never have started on this journey that has now gone through two summers of Shell Lake camps and incredible hours of practice in ways I never have done before.

That’s the simple process of failure and success. I was in my mid-60s when that all began. It could have been discouraging. I could have said “The hell with it!” But I had a greater goal, one of those big ones- to truly be a musician in ways unlike any time in my life. It can be called perseverance, or grit, or stubborn, ideas I will deal with later this winter and spring. It is just following the goals and dreams into something new and different.

Have goals and act on them. Prioritize, them, of course. I have never been able to memorize. That doesn’t mean I can’t. At this point in my musical life, there are other things more important than taking the time needed to learn how to do that. My goals are in scales and arpeggios, improvising and endurance, fun and performance. I keep thinking about memorization, but it’s not a priority. Yet.

As we start 2017 in our musical journeys:

• We start something by taking the necessary steps to get there.
• We have to know where we want to go.
• We then create opportunities then things happen.
• We follow our interests and take risks.
  
  Happy New Year! Let’s continue to make music- and life.

The Tuning Slide- No Wandering

Weekly Reflections on Life and Music

On those long notes behind the trumpet solo,

if anyone lets his mind wander for a minute

he is dead.

-Don Ellis

Things are moving along nicely. You are in "the groove." You are feeling what the rest of the group is doing. It can be a concert band piece or a trio. You know the music is working its magic on you and you couldn't feel better.

Then for  moment you get distracted. It could be something out of the corner of your eye or a note that didn't land just right from you or someone else. Maybe you just remembered something you forgot to do before you left home. Perhaps a memory of another performance was triggered by a note or just a random thought drifted up from the unconscious.

Suddenly the whole mood and feel changes. You aren't lost- you know right where you are, but the groove is gone. You are not in sync with what's happening.  If you are in a concert band you may get away with it. If you are in the midst of a solo, as great trumpet player Don Ellis so bluntly put it- you're dead.

Now, I know Robert Baca said the same thing about "panic" that I quoted a few weeks ago. The truth is, though, it's true. It took me years to realize the truth of it- and why my performances were often riddled with moments when I "died." No one noticed most of them except perhaps the director and the person sitting next to me. But distraction is for me the worst of.....

Squirrel.

Just kidding. Another way of describing this result of distraction is that obstacles appear when we take our mind away from the sound, the music, or the goal. Obstacles are things that get in the way of doing what we want to or are usually able to do. When I have listened to recordings of some of my solos in the big band or concert band I have often noticed one thing in particular- the sound. Perhaps it is better to say that I notice when my "sound" goes flat or isn't alive. The obstacle is not that I can't keep a clearer sound, the obstacle is maintaining it when I am distracted.

Sometimes I get distracted by the fact that I just did the previous line or phrase better than usual. I take that moment to congratulate myself- and I am distracted. Sometimes I get distracted by paying too much attention to the audience and I get flustered. Sometimes in life I get distracted by "the small stuff" and miss the goals and hopes I have for myself.

Even good things can be distractions, of course. If it takes me away from my goals, it is a distraction.

High-wire artist, acrobat, and daredevil Nik Wallenda of the famous Flying Wallendas has this to say:

I've trained all my life not to be distracted by distractions.
Nik Wallenda

Perhaps the word for what Wallenda does is maintain focus and being mindful. Staying in the moment is essential. Notice that he says he has had to "train" all his life to do it. I do not think it comes naturally. We are easily distracted because that is how our brain is constructed. It is part of the ancient survival system. To learn how to do this takes time and energy.

We learn in the practice room when we work on our pieces so that we know them more than just technically. We learn focus as we become familiar with the rhythms and flow that make the music alive. We learn mindfulness as we take the time to sing the parts out loud to feel the movement. We discover awareness as we listen to ourselves play and how what we are playing fits into the greater picture of the music.

But we also improve our musical focus ability when we take five or ten minutes on a daily basis to meditate or focus on our breathing as a way of bringing ourselves back into the moment. What we do in the hours of the day when we are not playing music can have a huge impact on how we learn to avoid distractions. Our music is not a box we can separate from the rest of our lives. Nor is our life a separate box from the music.

As we learn to integrate who we are and what we do, we find that our music will flow from us.

And we can flow from our music.

Practice mindfulness. Stay in the moment. Pay attention to your breath. Feel the pulse of the music as you play. Remember the sound you want and play it. Don't think about it; don't analyze it. In your practice - just play it so it is yours.

The Tuning Slide - Perception is Reality

Weekly Reflections on Life and Music

Don't be afraid,
just play the music.
― Charlie Parker

As a counselor, one thing I always have to keep in mind is that when someone sees reality a certain way, they believe it. For them it IS reality. It doesn't matter whether it is true or imagined. Reality is often what we perceive it to be. So when they come into my office or group for therapy I have to start where they are- even if I know it to be false or mis-perceived.

As we pick up our horn to practice or to perform, what we consider reality will govern what we do next.

For years I believed I could not play a solo.

I was right. I couldn't play a solo. I would always mess it up. Even though I kept at it in church, for example, if I had a organ or piano and trumpet duet I never, ever got it right. Never. Something would always go wrong. I would miss a count and therefore come in early or late. I would miss a sharp or flat and play a discordant note. Any one of a number of things happened every time. Most people didn't notice it as significant most of the time, but I did.

"See," I would say to myself, "you can't play a solo."
I was proving the truth of Henry Ford's statement:

Whether you think you can,
or you think you can't--
you're right.
― Henry Ford

Fortunately I loved playing trumpet so much I never allowed it to stop me from trying or from continuing to play in bands. I would avoid solos, even in band. My trumpet soloing above even 55 other musicians would send my heart into high gear, the adrenaline would flow, the fight or flight mechanism would kick in- and I would mess it up.

Over and over the refrain- you can't solo, you can't solo, you can't!

My perception of reality was true- even if it wasn't.

Note that this was not a fear of being in front of people. I have been in public for 50 years preaching, radio DJ, cable TV host. I could stand and talk to hundreds of people and not be nervous. Put a trumpet in my hand and make me solo in front of a handful- forget it. I can't do that. So said my perception of reality.

So what happened, esp. since I wouldn't be writing about it if it hadn't changed?

My first step was to work with a teacher. Just to play in his presence was a big step. He gave me some assignments; I worked on them; I improved.

Second, I was invited to join a brass quintet. When there are only five of you, each part is, in essence, a solo. We had a lot of fun practicing and developing a repertoire. When we finally did play in public performance I did okay, but I still messed up somewhere in each performance. Again, not always noticeable and never as badly as I had before, but I was building confidence in myself- and reality was shifting.

Third, I began playing some first parts in our community band. I found that most of the time I could do that! But that wasn't a solo. Again- perceptions were changing internally.

Fourth, one year ago this week the community band had a concert and with a solo on one number. My teacher was also playing first and he told me that I was playing it. I didn't argue. I figured that if he thought I was capable, maybe I was.

We worked on it in my lessons. I could play it very well- at home or in the lesson. But not at any rehearsal. Never.

I can't play solos!

But I refused to back down. (Stubborn ol' cuss!) The director never suggested I give it to someone else. The night before the concert we had our dress rehearsal and ...

Nope, still not right.

Concert night. The piece comes up. ("Valdres March" by Hanssen) It starts with my trumpet solo. I do okay. A little weak, but not particularly strong, either. Maybe I can solo? Maybe?

We get to the end and approach the D.C. back to the top- and the solo. One last chance. As we move along toward the D.C. I have a conversation with myself.

• This music is supposed to be fun.
• You're not having fun.
• Have fun.
• You can do it.
• Screw it. 
• Play the damn thing!!!

Yep- it worked.

I nailed it. My teacher gave me a thumbs up!

The first solo I played well in almost 50 years.

Reality made a seismic shift and I was now a "real" trumpet player again.

After the first of the year I will be doing some posts on the idea of "The Inner Game" about how we sabotage ourselves with a "Self One" and a "Self Two". That's what this is really about. It starts with our perception of reality. What we believe is what guides us. Reality or not, if we see it that way, that's the way it is. Don't confuse me with facts.

Unless you want to learn to do it differently. I didn't realize that's what I was doing when I started this journey about five or six years ago; when I said yes to the quintet or decided to take lessons again.

So,

• Get out of yourself and seek support and new insights.
• Stretch yourself. Take some chances and risks. All you can do is make a mistake. It's not the end of the world.
• Keep practicing.
• Hear the perception of reality that is keeping you from doing what you can do.
• Then do it.

That's what I did over the years in my life. It works with any task I think I can or can't do. The trumpet isn't any different.

And it is supposed to be fun. Enjoy it!

(BTW: Thanks to Warren, Steve, and Mike for sticking with me through these past years!)