Monday Morning Wake-Up Call

~ Live & Learn

True story: One summer, years ago, I went tubing…The sun was blazing, and the water was cool. It was a perfect day to close your eyes and let the current carry you. I was enjoying myself, until we rounded the final bend and saw the parking lot. I leaned back to get my arms in the water and I started to kick and paddle. In a froth of churning water, I passed my mom, my sister, my boyfriend and my brothers, and as I reached the dock, I shouted out, “I won!”

That’s me. All my life, I’ve made lists and set deadlines, never content, or even able, to just glide.

That kind of drive has served me well when aimed at challenges within my control, like writing a novel…I never stopped hoping that if I worked hard enough, wanted it badly enough, I’d finally get the acclaim that I craved…

That did not happen. And my brain, which had propelled me toward so many successes, could not push me past disappointment. Instead of focusing on everything that had gone right, including how lucky I was to make a living as a writer, it got stuck on what had gone wrong. Let’s think about it! my brain suggested, like a Roomba endlessly butting itself into a corner. Let’s think about it a lot. Especially at 3 in the morning. Let’s go over every single choice. Let’s dwell.

I tried yoga. I attempted meditation. Nothing helped. Instead, each spiritual setting and inner-growth-focused class presented new opportunities to compete: I held that pose for longer than anyone in the class. I’m way more Zen than she is. Finally, I remembered reading about how learning something new — creating new neural pathways — was a way to send your thoughts in different directions.

And so, after a 35-year hiatus, I started taking piano lessons again.

I had been an indifferent piano student as a kid…By high school, I had bumped up against the limits of my natural abilities. So I quit. I turned my attention toward activities at which I could excel…

Photo: videvo

55 thoughts on “Monday Morning Wake-Up Call”

  3. Happy New Year, David. I’m glad you showcased this piece. “So I will persist … I will invite failure into my life…”. Those words jumped out at me this morning even though I have read the NYT article several times. For me, it is quilting rather than piano playing and life itself in this fourth year of retirement after a life of being in charge.

    The company is gone. The sun is coming up. Coffee scents the air. I am grateful for your persistence with this blog and your insight shared. You are good company along the way.

    Mary Ann

    >

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

  4. This is great. I don’t have it in me. But I tremendously admire those with this attitude. I can’t deal with too many failures on my part. I have to have results right away.
    And yes, it is not too late, but I still don’t have it in me. To pick up something new at this age! Though the scientist in me knows we can always create new neural pathways.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

      1. It’s not good. This is something I admire about millennials! Their flexibility. We are not as flexible as they are. They b*tch and whine but they push themselves way further out of their comfort zone than we do.

        I need to create new neural pathways soon. Hmmm! You got me thinking this morning.

        Liked by 3 people

        Reply

        1. Sawsan, the point is they ARE millennials…. Don’t you worry, they’ll calm down all on their own and in their own time – we have to live as gracefully as we can with our shortcomings. I’m long past beating myself up over all the stuff I should have/could have done better…. It’s like enjoying the food we eat, it sems that nobody can enjoy what they have on their plate any longer. A fried chicken or a nice pece of met with a (God forbid) sauce? AND fries? Mustn’t eat anything the next 5 days…. A breakfast with buttered and honey’d slices of crusty bread? Goodness me – must be followed by a series of green smoothies illico presto (= the next 7 weeks!)….. NO, I was a ‘terrible’ achiever, always best, quickest, informed, and yet I failed in life in quite a spectacular manner. NOW I’m w/o ambition apart from being good company, a great listener and a good wife with the patience of a saint and I’m just fine. Come on sweetie, join my club!

          Liked by 2 people

          Reply

          1. Dale, I believe we are here to teach them. And I love and appreciate what they’re here to teach us. I would like to rise up to the challenge of picking up something new and do it gracefully. Like described in this inspirational post.

            Liked by 1 person

          1. And we don’t know how to get unstuck!
            I sometimes write under a different name. You know why? Because I’m a coward. If she fails it’s on her. Not on me. No where near learning how to fail gracefully.

            Liked by 1 person

        1. Why anyone would want to take five hours out of their day to hit a stupid ball with a crooked stick to the other end of the world – losing their shit along the way each time they miss – is beyond me…
          Robin Williams’ skit is the best…

          Liked by 3 people

          Reply

  5. This was great, David. As we try to find a better us (you ain’t the only one trying to “re-vamp” yourself into something (even) better 😉 ) we realise we can’t all be Forrest Gumps who seem to excel at everything they do 😉

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

  7. She was so right. She was a writer for a living yet focused on getting published, something that never happened.Thats me. Even though Im not doing much writing as a writer at work, they still changed my title to be one. We are never satisfied. Im going to start painting…something Ive never been good at. I need an atritude adjustment!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  10. Sounds familiar… same story here. I’m having a hard time with practicing too, even though the logical part of my brain knows I’d probably get very good results doing so!
    I maybe take comfort in using the excuse, that painting is what I mainly concentrate on.
    Yet, I still believe, deeply that, time will come when my childhood yearning for piano fluency will be rekindled accompanied by the will to keep it up.
    It’s a matter of time…
    The right time.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

    1. Smiling. I understand. And for some reason your shared experience reminds me of this poem by Mark Strand.

      A snowflake, a blizzard of one, weightless, entered your room
      And made its way to the arm of the chair where you, looking up
      From your book, saw it the moment it landed. That’s all
      There was to it. No more than a solemn waking
      To brevity, to the lifting and falling away of attention, swiftly…
      That someone years hence, sitting as you are now, might say:
      “It’s time. The air is ready. The sky has an opening.”

      ~ Mark Strand, from “A Piece of the Storm” in “Blizzard of One (Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. 1998)

      Liked by 2 people

      Reply

      1. Dave; what did I say earlier about 2nd and/or 3rd posts??? 🙂 🙂 🙂 What a gem – so great that I will copy this and re-read when one of ‘these’ moments will creep up!

        Liked by 1 person

        Reply

  12. Ack! Somehow this post slipped below the radar, but I love it and have enjoyed the comments that followed just as much (one of the many great things about the DK blog–the way the community takes a topic and runs with it).

    This idea of not being perfect, the fear of putting oneself out there, the ‘need to succeed’ that too frequently gives rise to a stillborn willingness to risk, all so tough to surmount. And yet…. a while back you did a post (or maybe it was Bonnie) on choosing a word for the year rather than setting a resolution. Mine this year is ‘Give’ — give my ear to others, give some kindness to myself, give myself the permission to try something new and yes, perhaps fall flat, but give. As Strand points out so eloquently, ‘The sky has an opening….’ Happy 2019, pal!!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

Leave a Reply