A Student Again: It's All in the Process

Sometimes it's good to learn or relearn something not in order to get a specific benefit, but only for the process itself. Even if you have definite goals and a burning desire to meet them, if you don't occasionally put the outcome aside and fully experience the process of learning and practicing, the outcome won't be as good as it might have been. There's something about the act of careful focusing that makes any subject come alive.

I started lessons again because I want to explore musical styles that are significantly different from what I've done during the past 25 years, with an eye to forming a group later. However, I realized I didn't have the necessary skills to do this. In less than a month I've rediscovered how important it is to be in the moment when practicing, to focus on doing just one thing.

Someone once said something to the effect of "How you do one thing is how you do everything." Whether you play, sing, paint, write or whatever, doing it mindfully helps you towards approaching every other activity with similar care.

A Student Again: Real Musicians Practice

Years ago I saw a sticker on a car in my neighborhood that said, "Real musicians practice." This would seem obvious but in fact I've gone through periods where my skills deteriorated because I fell out of the habit of practicing.

Some of us enjoy practice more (or in my case, less) than others. I find it much easier to play with the rest of a group than to go over scales, exercises and songs all by my lonesome at home. However, the fact is that with much of the music I've played over the years, I would not have been able to make any meaningful contribution to the group if I hadn't practiced my part first. From experience I know how annoying it is when group rehearsal time, which should be used for blending, gets bogged down because someone doesn't know her own part. I've been that person myself on occasion.

Exercises can be tedious but without them, most of us will never get to the fun part, playing the music listeners want to hear. This time around I've decided to approach doing scales and intervals as a sort of Zen-like focusing exercise, doing everything in a mindful way, paying close attention to details on even the most seemingly simple piece. Since I'm not generally a careful-attention-to-minute-detail person, this will be a challenge.

But maybe the point of learning something new isn't just mastering the skill. Maybe it's also about approaching learning itself in a new way and developing traits like patience. Seen from this perspective,it's possible that the benefits of practicing anything at all will spread throughout every area of daily life.

A Student Again: Beginner's Mind

Three years ago, when good fortune made me the temporary caretaker of a cello, I began taking lessons with a teacher in the neighborhood. I hadn't tackled a stringed instrument since high school guitar class and a short stint playing bass in a classmate's band. I was starting at the bottom.

This experience is serving me well as I start lessons again, this time in a whole new genre. I've had to work at chipping away certain prejudices (classical music is somehow "higher" than popular or folk music), become willing to make mistakes, and return to practicing very basic skills. At 52, I'm my teacher's newest and oldest student.

The Zen tradition has a principle called beginner's mind. Cultivating beginner's mind requires putting aside preconceived ideas and the egotism that can come from previous accomplishments. The student has to turn off her own mental chatterbox, quiet down and listen. She has to be willing to say (if only in her own head), "You're better at this than I am," "I goofed," or "I'm just not getting it; can you show me how?"
Beginner's mind is know-it-all's opposite.

No one is ever too old to learn something new; however, the learner needs to adopt a mindset similar to a 5 year-old learning to read. Beginner's Mind 101 is the prerequisite to everything else.

The Creative Home Business: You've Gotta Love It

When times grew tough several years ago, I noticed that books about starting a home-based business went flying off the shelves. They included books on writing. Titles like How to Earn a Six-Figure Income Writing Greeting Card Poetry generally circulate well but during times of high unemployment they're especially hot.

At times I really felt for the people checking these books out. Some borrowers exuded such a strong mix of hope and desperation that they seemed to be surrounded by a visible aura. I'd heard of "hope in a jar;" these books seemed to be "hope between two covers."

I read many of the books as a reviewer for a writers' club newsletter. The actual business strategy advice ranged from extremely helpful to "I'm glad I didn't buy this." What a startling number of them failed to mention is the idea that a business in the creative arts (maybe in any field) works best if you'd love what you're doing even if you weren't getting paid for it.

If you don't love it you won't be able to spend ten-hour days (that's the average working day for the owner of a full-time startup) doing it. You won't be able to convinced prospective users or buyers that they need your services. You'll turn out mediocre work. Eventually you'll be bored.

Making a little extra money on the side by freelancing or selling your crafts at fairs is one thing; trying to earn a full-time living running a business in creative services is another. Working from home doing what you choose to do sounds easier than it is. I enjoy working with kids but during the years when I ran a daycare service for children at home, I worked days that were much longer than any of the school jobs I'd held. Even being as frugal as I was, my net earnings were so low I was embarrassed to report them on the tax forms. Child care is one of those businesses that makes no sense unless the care provider loves doing it.

I believe that working in any of the arts, even "applied" ones such as graphic design or copy writing, run on the same principle. If you're down to your last dollar and need money now, they're a risky choice.

But if you're already doing something you love and are willing to start small while holding onto your day job, your chance of eventually being able to leave that job are better than average. Every full-time freelancer or artist I've ever met has started out by doing what she does not for money but for love.

Creative Spaces: A Garrett of Your Own

If you're going to have a serious (or playful) artistic practice, you need a space of your own. This is true even if your creative spells are limited to one or two hours a week, whenever you can get a day off work. This is so important that once you rope off a corner of your own, you'll wonder how you got along without it.

Nearly 20 years ago my family and I were living in a single-wide mobile home on a tiny lot. It was way too small for four-sometimes-five people but it was ours for the time being. My "office" was a small drafter's style desk and a stool in the corner of the kitchen. There were no walls. Half the time I'd sit down to work only to discover that a family member had "borrowed" certain supplies or spilled something on a manuscript. I didn't get much done during our four years there.

When we moved into our current house I got half a room for my office - my husband got the other half - and discovered that if we used a portable screen, we each had a reasonable amount of privacy. For the first time in years I was able to finish projects, partly because I didn't have to pack away partially finished work at the end of each day. It was safe on my desk.

This sense of safety is critical to creative success. You need a place, no matter how small, where you can be free to rough out ideas that aren't ready for the glaring light of public exposure yet, and where you can leave half-finished projects out without fear of others messing things up.

A tiny desk in the middle of a common room isn't ideal. If you live in a shoebox, try to find an empty corner, or empty a full corner of its junk. With a folding screen you can create an ersatz wall. This wall won't shut out noise but it will make a sort of psychological barrier to interruptions.

It's just as important to teach family members or roommates that when you're behind this wall, you're at work. In some households this can be a real struggle - enough to merit an article of its own. Claiming your own space is the first step.

Uninspired? Try Being Aimless

Several weeks ago I ran out of ideas for just about every project I was working on. When I was younger I would have made desperate stabs at brainstorming. These days, however, I take a break if I don't have an urgent deadline.

One of the most effective ways I've found to mentally relax and refresh is to spend one of my free afternoons just wandering up and down Main Street. I don't go with any itinerary. If I feel like stopping in one of the stores just to browse, I do. During these times I've made some surprising discoveries and gotten ideas that have given me a second wind.

Letting your mind drift can be the most productive thing you do.

When Drowning in Overtime Hours, Here's How to Stay Afloat

A good friend from college days told me about a recent dilemma. She's being offered so much overtime at her job in retail management that she's had to pull back on what she considers her real work, designing & creating hassle-free baby clothes. She'd just begun to experience some success in her new side business, selling at her local farmers' market, when an unexpected repair bill upset the balance. She feels like she should accept the extra hours but at the same time, resents the time they'd take away from her fledgling business.

The question of whether to work overtime (if there's a choice in the matter) always poses problems for those of us who have serious side businesses or activities. I haven't met anyone who's never felt the need for more money at some point. At times I've put in extra hours, often more than I've wanted, in order to pay off a bill or buy a big-expense item like a new computer. For some of my friends the "opportunity" for overtime never ends.

How do you set limits? And how do you keep slogging onward when you're discouraged because it seems like all you do is work, you miss practicing your art and worst of all, it feels like this particular stretch will never end?

Many years ago when I worked for an educational agency full-time while getting my freelance business off the ground, this was how I approached overtime:

• First, I decided to take extra hours only if I needed extra money for something specific. My regular earnings were enough to live on if I made thrifty choices. I'd noticed from observing friends in more highly paid industries that always having a lot of money didn't solve anything; high earners got used to certain amenities which then became necessities.
  
• When an actual need (such as new tires) or a justifiable expense (plane fare for family reunion or a desktop publishing program that would cut project times in half) came up, I calculated the amount I'd need to pay for it, then figure out how many extra hours I'd need to work for it. From there I could decide how many extra hours to accept.
• During overtime episodes I found it helpful to daily remind myself why I was doing this. A visual reminder such as a picture of what I was working for made it seem more real. And when the extra work was especially onerous, I'd count down the hours by crossing them off one by one in my calendar.
  
• After each spurt of overtime finished I immediately got the rest of my life, including writing & editing, back on track.
• If extra work came up when I didn't need the money or had a lot of freelance assignments, I turned it down. Among other things, this let my bosses and co-workers know that I was willing to go the extra mile some of the time but not every time. It insured that I didn't become the unofficial go-to person every time the office stayed open for an evening event. Precedents and expectations can be extremely difficult to change once they're in place.
• I always tried to keep the big picture in mind: while my day job provided an important service to the people who came to our agency, it was still only one part of life. The work I did at home provided an equally important service to my customers. I found that it helped to think of the job as one component of what some vocational counselors call Life Work. All the components need to work together.
  

It doesn't matter what you do during your off hours; if you're emotionally invested in it, it's important. Approaching overtime or extra-hours requests in a thoughtful way and using overtime earnings for a premeditated purpose may be the best way to show respect for yourself, your time and your work - all your work.