Explorations

Upon waking, I went up to the lake in our area today, almost before sunrise, to walk the pathway along its perimeter. I have decided to take on a new direction in my life and, as such, my first order of business was to start walking again.

I had never seen the lake and its surroundings so peaceful. I suppose no one wakes up around that time to enjoy the beauty of this treasure. Normally, it is bustling with people during the summer when people swim there. The surroundings around the lake take on different forms: bordering the Danube on one side, then opening into a forest-like meadow that seems boundless, then into playgrounds and swimming docks.  When I got to that area where huge trees cover a field, a sudden urge rose to run in it and just be. And the voice inside kept saying there is no one here; go ahead, run, be part of it, no one's here anyway. And there was no one around; I saw only one individual doing their morning run from a distance, and then they disappeared.

And that got me thinking, as part of the new direction I have been considering: it could mean exploring things differently, not the same way I have always done them. Why not run in the meadow? Of course you might have already guessed where this conversation is leading: approaching practicing your instrument differently, since doing the same things the same way might lead to boredom. It is only natural.

After I returned home, I proclaimed this day my day of rest without guilt.
I hardly ever rest, so today I have decided to be one of the television watchers in this house. As part of that plan, I began rewatching my favorite Korean television series, even though I've seen it at least ten times before. This drama has a couple of powerful scenes that beautifully demonstrate a woman’s dream and a man’s courage. It also shows the main character’s relentless pursuit of the woman he loves and his deep understanding of her.

Back at the lake, the Autumn leaves rustled under my feet. That was the only thing I heard, with the occasional baby birds tweeting in the trees, and I could feel the quiet energy in the air. I thought about changes taking place in my life. My neighbor of almost eighteen years moving, one of our musician colleagues passing in midlife last week, the windshield of my scratchless car cracking from a freeway stone.

And back at home, as I began watching my Korean drama, the friend of my former cat Mochi, who disappeared without a trace, showed up on our terrace, I suppose, looking for him. Some squirrels have also begun to run around in our garden. Then there is me, unable to catch up with someone over the last several weeks to say I am sorry for what happened. My childhood shyness, not-so-great German skills, and my habit of concern about not interrupting people got in the way.

As leaves keep falling, the sun is shining today. I am not sure my mood is matching this greatness. And here is another thing: a question, maybe. A metaphor, perhaps: when someone is deprived of the sun they love for so long, and when it finally shines with all its glory, wouldn’t the person squint and ask themselves why they deserve this? 

The point of all this is to explore new ways and possibilities this week for playing and practicing, and the issues we might be facing in our lives.

I want to practice my instruments differently, too. I might practice throughout the day in twenty-five-minute Pomodoro-style increments. I normally sit through hours on end, but I might change that this week. I might even work on things completely unrelated to my current needs. Perhaps I grab one of the pieces I never thought I would play and start working on it. I might even want to play highly technical pieces I've shied away from in the past to see how far I have come, sort of like running in the meadows.

I have found that unrelated things can also benefit our playing, such as sports. That said, I want to go back to tennis training, for example. Again, as part of my quest for a new direction. 

During the summer, when I went to Italy with my daughter, Leah, I could only take my viola da gamba because there was no room in the car. So I left my cello behind, and I was concerned because that meant I wouldn't be able to practice it for an entire week. But when I returned, I discovered that playing my viola da gamba all week had been very helpful in that quest.

So go ahead, explore new paths, and enjoy the ride.

Happy Adventures!
And sometime this week I might go for that run after all.