Practice, Practice, Practice

You know the old joke…a man stopped another man on the streets of New York City – who happened to be a great musician, and asked, “Do you know how to get to Carnegie Hall?”  The musician answered, “Practice, practice, practice!”

 

In my writing, I’ve been focusing lately on the subject of Practice.  I’ve never been very great at doing anything very regularly or repetitively for any length of time.  I’m a big picture kind of person.  I like to take flying leaps from where I’m at to where I want to go…wipe my hands…done.  None of this putzy little step-by-step stuff….at least that’s the way it goes in my mind.  And then I wonder why I’m still sitting in the recliner with little to show after days or weeks.  

 

I just have never been good at daily practice – whether it’s daily devotions and praying, or keeping a daily regimen of exercise, or counting calories.  I can never keep it up long enough to accomplish any goal I might have set for myself.  I’m really good, though,  at
making big decisions, and taking on big projects that I can immerse myself in for an intense period of time and make grand accomplishments.  So I’m not a total couch potato…but it’s pretty hard to write a book or lose 100 lbs in one big intensive push.  It takes the small steps, which really sucks for people like me.  

 

But, actually now I’m learning…step by step.  As I write on practice…I realize that my daily writing IS a practice, and I’m seeing the value of it.  So, I’m also trying to practice other things.  I won’t go into what exactly I’m practicing because it involves more yard
work, and I’ve already written enough about that.

 

Part of the art of practice I’m learning is that it really is okay to only do a little bit each day.   The point isn’t how much or how far I accomplish, the point is that I just do some each day. Duh.  Not a huge revelation, but I have realized that is hard for me.  It’s actually hard to feel okay about stopping after just a bit, when I think I should do more to make it worthwhile.

 

The other lesson that has come to me serendipitously – I don’t claim it as my own wisdom, I actually heard it on one of the morning shows, came from a 90+ year old man who still does double triathlons (I can’t even imagine…!)  When asked how he can possibly keep going for all those miles, he said, “I learned that had to stop listening to myself, and begin talking to myself.  If I listened, I’d hear my body telling me how much it hurts and to stop; but in talking to myself, I keep myself going.”  Wow.  I’m basically a listener, and I guess in this case, that might be the problem!  My body tends to be a pretty narcissistic talker! It tells me in no uncertain terms when I want to eat something, or when I need to stop doing something because it hurts,  or when to stop doing something and eat because, well, it feels bored…or sad…or uncomfortable…or angry in some way.

 

As I was reflecting on this irritating subject of practice, a few nights ago I had a dream.  I dreamt I was at the base of a mountain and my job was to move the mountain.  I felt frustrated and perplexed, but I knew that the only way I could do it was just moving stone by stone (yes, I know…almost cliché, right? – Usually my dreams are a tad more enigmatic than that!)  But then, as I picked up a stone and hoisted it somewhere else, and picked up another, and another, I suddenly uncovered a little grotto-like cave that  contained a altar and sacred statue with candles lit around it. 

 

So, my third lesson about practice I was given through this dream: the value of practice doesn’t necessarily come at the end accomplishment, but there are sacred moments and spaces of holy surprise that are discovered and uncovered in the daily process.