Connecting through COVID-19

Greetings, loved ones!

The past few months of the COVID-19 pandemic have left me feeling raw. I already felt fragile as a result of a turbulent global climate, and these feelings have only compounded of late. I find myself crying more frequently and easily than I have in months. Classes feel less relevant than ever. I wonder why I’m enrolled in school right now, and question every choice I make. I struggle to complete tasks on time, or to feel satisfied with my work. I feel vulnerable, fragile, and small. My emotions are overwhelming, and I long both to connect with others, and for solitude. I have bursts of productivity amidst depressive episodes. All of this is normal for a person with major depressive disorder and general anxiety, but when every emotion is exacerbated by financial stress, COVID stress, election stress, climate stress, and a multitude of other stimuli, it can be easy to feel paralyzed. I know many humans feel similar things during this unprecedented season of the unknown. We can find power and healing in naming these emotions. I encourage you to name what you are feeling. Honor those feelings. I promise that your vulnerability is an asset, despite the overwhelming, scary emotions that often accompany the practice of vulnerability.

Healthy vulnerability is a prerequisite to emotional intimacy. Our experiences are enriched when we bring our honest selves to all facets of our lives. Sometimes being our truest selves feels dangerous: what if we reveal who we truly are, and aren’t accepted by those around us? When we make the choice to trust another person or group of people with our most authentic selves,we are sometimes confronted by a deep fear of rejection. We need community to survive; our survival instincts are activated when we face the possibility of having to “go it alone” in life. Because of this, vulnerability can feel like an indicator that harm is about to be done to us. When I feel most vulnerable, trauma feels like it’s right around the corner. I try to remind myself that this is a normal association, because stressful or harmful environments can make us feel small and out of control-- the epitome of vulnerability. Naming what I am feeling is the first step towards healthy vulnerability.

Practicing healthy vulnerability is lifelong work. I find starting small is helpful to this practice. Here are two ways I practice healthy vulnerability in my life, both to do with sharing:

1. Listen to others when they share vulnerably. Really, really listen. This can be difficult, because what if I disagree with them?, or what if I really need to go practice?, or what if I don’t know how to help them? Lending your time and ears to a friend’s or acquaintance’s experience opens you up to the possibility that you will not be equipped to respond to this person in the way they need. To me, that’s not fun! I want to be everything, to everyone, all of the time! As I’m sure you’ve learned, no one person can be everything for everyone. Challenge your expectations of what a supportive friend is supposed to be. When someone shares vulnerably, offer them your truest self. You will grant them permission to continue being their truest self. I promise your understanding of one another will deepen.

1. Share your experience. I feel scared when I put myself out there in social settings, because I’m worried about others perceiving me as an over-sharer. While respecting others’ time and energy is important, I’ve learned that many folks are interested in (or at least open to) hearing a bit about me or my experience. Learning to talk about yourself truthfully and with your own balance of confidence and self-awareness can allow others to see and know you. (Notice I don’t say “pride” and “humility”, but rather “confidence” and “awareness”. I think these are helpful terms, which frame concepts of pride/humility in self-supportive ways. You might find the opposite is true for you. Find a framework that supports your personal growth.)

I hope you find comfort and peace during this season of multifaceted unrest. I’m here if you need to talk about anything. Consider this me practicing healthy vulnerability: I invite you to reach out to me if you’d like to chat with a friend, whether we’ve known each other for years, or only connected recently. We can talk about dogs, food, deep interpersonal concepts, music, tv shows… whatever you like. I’d love to hear from you. 

Thanks for reading! I wish you love and light this week.

-A

Reflection on diligence

Dear Friends,

The past couple weeks, I’ve been “coming down” from several incredible flute intensives, which happened to take place back to back. Those focused educational days transformed my attitude towards flute playing. The finances, energy, and time I put into preparing for and participating in those intensives paid off, building confidence in myself as a flutist. Self-doubt, however, creeps in more and more as time passes after intensely inspirational educational experiences. I thought about this at length throughout the two intensives, anticipating a lull in motivation upon my return. It’s common to be drained after traveling, let alone to two consecutive conferences. I knew I’d be exhausted, which might hinder my willingness to practice flute. Fighting off lack of energy towards practicing is a feat for me, and I’ve latched onto the concept of diligence the past several weeks to help me do so. Bear with me as I share some of the tough love I’ve been living by.

Two weeks ago at Carnegie Mellon University, I had the privilege of learning from many great pedagogues of the flute. I played for several teachers, including Alberto Almarza, a detail-oriented teacher and player who has an incredible understanding of the sonic capabilities of our instrument. During one of the collaborative lectures mid-week, Professor Almarza put a crucial “life lesson” into phraseology that was new to me: when we lack motivation, we must rely on diligence.

If you’re as current on self-help ideology as I am, this isn’t news. But… diligence isn’t always habitual-- at least for me. Where is the disconnect? I WANT to be motivated to practice all of the time, and for diligence to fill in gaps in motivation automatically. I want endless energy to supply my body with breath and movement to create sound through my instrument. I want to transcend the realities of physical and mental fatigue, trusting my art to revitalize and energize me. I desire proficiency on this instrument so badly; I’d expect minimal resistance to leaning into the detail-oriented work of becoming a skilled flutist.

Unfortunately, this is not the case. Most days, my energy is sapped by work or travel and picking my flute up to practice is the last thing I want to do. I’m left frustrated and disappointed. Over time, this develops a habitual response to the idea of practicing which is generally negative, restricting the joy in making music. I’ve found that a sort of “tiered” diligence is necessary to inform good practice habits.

“What the heck do you mean by that, Ariel?”

Essentially, I’ve discovered that I must be diligent in almost all areas of life in order to be musically diligent. Combatting lackadaisical lifestyle patterns is an ongoing battle, which I intend to win each day. Some days, I’m successful; others, I’m not—and have grace with myself. But my intent is optimistic, focused and determined, while my plans remain malleable should I need to adjust.

I recognize several factors which contribute to the inverse relationship between my energy level, and my resistance to practicing. One is fear, of course: what if I can’t get this passage under my fingers? What if I’m unable to perform this piece to the standard I desire? What if people don’t agree with a musical interpretation I have chosen to spend hours rehearsing? In some ways, it feels “safer” to qualify myself as a “student” or “developing” musician. It’s safer to provide disclaimers for my work, as a safety net. It’s easier to receive criticism when I know I could have performed better, been better prepared, or changed any number of factors (which ultimately become irrelevant in cases of inadequate preparation, anyway).

What does that fear do for me? Nothing positive, I know this much. I’ve spent many hours tackling fear related to performance (you can read more about one of those methods in last week’s blog if you haven’t already seen it). The ongoing process of debasing fears that my mind has constructed requires mental and emotional diligence.

A second factor is exhaustion, as I’ve mentioned. It’s well-known that sleep, diet and lifestyle are crucial to creating a high quality of life, and this applies to the quality of musical practice as much as it does life in general. If our bodies are not in prime condition, how can we be expected to perform detailed, complex, multi-faceted tasks to a high level of excellence? I’m not always on top of my game in every single one of these areas, but I strive for consistency in the healthy standards I set for myself. Once again, diligence is required. Many days, I don’t want to exercise because I’m drained after work or chores or practicing. But when I’m in a consistent routine of physical activity, I have more energy day to day, and feel better mentally and emotionally. The story is the same with cooking healthy meals, completing housework proactively, and any other general lifestyle practices that influence my mood and energy levels. I feel much more energized when I’ve been diligent in these parts of my life.

A big factor for me is balancing social activities with work activities. Socialization is the only effective way to prevent feelings of isolation, and my social network is incredibly important to my happiness and ability to function day to day. Tipping the scale the other way, however, is also dangerous: over-social periods of time in my life leave me exhausted and unable to focus on the things I need to accomplish, including playing the flute or tidying up. Creating space for rest on my own is as important as connecting with others; maintaining a balance requires focused intentionality.

Only when I’ve developed healthy routines in these basic areas (caring for my body and mind, tackling my self doubt and fear, practicing diligence in my whole life), do I find it easy to approach practice sessions with a positive attitude whether I am motivated or not.

I want to stress that I do not advocate for regimented, militaristic adherence to one’s plans, schedule, or “to-do list”. Balance and flexibility is key; we should constantly listen to our bodies and minds and evaluate whether we need a moment to rest and recharge before diving back in to practice, exercise, etc. Goals can be achieved over time if we are able to have grace with our timelines when absolutely necessary, leaving expectations and definitions of success malleable. We are ever-changing beings; our goals can reflect that even while we remain driven. Progress and learning is always the goal.

I encourage you to evaluate how your chosen lifestyle impacts your ability to focus on the daily activities that are meaningful to you. How might you practice diligence in one area of your life, to improve your quality of life in other areas?

Cheers to learning.

• Ariel

Affirmations: a few thoughts and experiences

Dear friends: welcome to the inaugural blog post! Very, very scared to put my real, actual words out into the internet, but vulnerability serves my art and I’ve challenged myself to connect with my community in new ways moving forward. Thanks for being here, and valuing my work! I appreciate you, and hope that this vignette from my past leaves you with a thing or two to think about.

Honesty hour: I struggle to feel positively about any kind of assessment or performance. Auditions, juries, chamber performances— I get really nervous! One of the biggest seasons of preparation I’ve experience was during my gap year, when I applied to 4 schools for transfer after completing two years at my old school. As I prepared for auditions at several music schools during January and February of 2018, I worked with a performance anxiety counselor. Our work, done over the phone, involved a process of building an understanding of my needs and desired outcome for the sessions so that she could assess what might help me achieve the results I wanted. These auditions would determine the course of my life for the next several years, and I took them very seriously.

Step one involved noticing how many negative things I told myself throughout the day. I was usually consumed by plans and hopes for the future, revolving around my ability to capture the attention of high-profile educators and employers with my music making. How would I achieve the goals I had set if there were people who had head starts on me? I knew I couldn’t keep up with people who had started playing younger than I, who had teachers from a young age, performed in youth orchestras… I could rack up lists of reasons why I WASN’T the candidate that would get the spot at the school, the job, whatever commodity we all compete for at any given point. I started writing these thoughts down, and the more I noticed, the less I found myself unconsciously thinking negative things. I still have some of the original sticky notes on which I wrote my pessimism. After this work had taken flight, it was time to incorporate intentional self-empowerment into the routine.

My counselor and I developed self-affirmations, which I repeated to myself throughout the day. Each morning, I woke up and reminded myself of the following:

“I wake up every morning grateful that I am a flutist with possibilities in front of me.”

Read that again. There is SO much in that little statement! First, an expression of consistent gratitude for the work I get to do. Second, a assertion of self: I AM a flutist. And then, the recognition of possible futures: I have possibilities in front of me. This is not an assumption of success, nor a box with which to limit my potential: rather, it’s an invitation to explore the many possibilities which could evolve out of my commitment to my musicianship.

The morning affirmation set a hopeful precedent for the day, allowing me to focus on what I could do in the present moment to become the musician I want to be. I could feel good about that progress and retire the idea of being able to “arrive” at a certain standard of excellence; I was putting my personal best into the art, and knew growth would continue to be the result of my diligence. Throughout the day, I utilized three affirmations to follow up with myself and remind myself of what I want to be true in any audition setting. Here is the one that for me, became most poignant:

“Every time I pick up my flute, I remember: this is what I am born to do, and I play only for my own joy and satisfaction, freeing myself from the need for approval from others.”

Today, I might revise this statement to read: “…and I play only to give glory to God, which is my joy and satisfaction…” My musicianship and faith are intertwined, and the past year since starting to use these affirmations has only confirmed that.

Gradually, I’m learning to trust myself as a musician. I’m learning to be vulnerable onstage, connecting with my collaborators and audience members alike. I’m learning not to apologize for still being “in the process” because I always will be, thank goodness— lifelong learning is the goal. Slowly, I’ve become acquainted with a new version of myself, who believes in her musicianship, character, and ambitions. Most importantly, my newfound comfortability in my chosen profession has enabled me to be more present in my communities. In turn, this blossoming network of professional and social contacts encourages me to continue the daily grind! When I remember seasons of preparation, I acknowledge the processes and people that supported me. Intentional self-reflection keeps me growth-oriented, especially when things don’t turn out how I hope!

What a privilege to have begun to see the fruits of my labor with self-affirmation. I continue to recognize negative self-talk in myself and others, naming it and letting it go to make room for upbuilding thought patterns. If you haven’t already tried this yourself, I recommend giving it a go, especially leading up to a big audition, interview, exam… anything stressful for which you want to be fully present! Write down all the negative things you think throughout the day, over the span of a few days. When you notice them, don’t dwell on them. By writing them down, let them go. This can really change habits; I’ve observed that increased awareness is one of the biggest guarantors of progress. When you know what your unconscious, automatic self-talk sounds like, you can decide to say different things to yourself, if you want to.

Again, this is long term work. The exercise above is just a small step, thought it can have major benefits. In reality, I’ve tackled performance anxiety (stemming from lack of belief in my own ability) with a multi-faceted approach. I use mindfulness, careful preparation, intentional practice, and other regular practices to prepare myself for any performance, and I’ve benefited from the help of both individual and group therapy. If you want to talk about performance anxiety with me, please reach out! It’s common, but not something that needs to hinder us. We can support each other in the quest to achieve our desired outcomes and hold one another accountable to positive self-talk. Let’s work together.

With nothing but love,

Ariel