Only One Thought

small things

We were talking about music. If I could only drop one thought on a student or a fellow musician that would really land, that would really stay with them, what would it be?

I didn't have to think about it, just came right out.

Small things, applied consistently over time, have a massive impact.

I had a poet friend who spoke of closing a door "gently, like water cracking stone."

But if poetry isn't your thing, try coming at it this way.

That’s the top of my acoustic.

I play mostly with a pick. And every once in a while that pick will run across the top of my guitar. Not gouging. More like stroking. But it's cedar. Which is soft. After enough time I’ve made a bowl. Not saying that's a good thing. But it's a small thing applied consistently over time. (See also ‘careful what you practice, it's what you'll get good at’. Which if I only had one other thought to drop, yeah that'd be it.)

But small things, over time.

How do I apply the thought?

Try this—I’m a multi-instrumentalist. Which means I have to work hard to keep up a whole bunch of different chops. But I also do this to pay the bills. And like you I don't have unlimited time in my week. So I need to give priority to what's paying the bills.

Now there was a time when I was playing so much upright bass that many people didn't even know I played guitar (we’ll leave aside for the moment the fact that some people who heard me with a guitar in my hands weren’t so sure neither). But it's been a while since anybody asked. And the upright takes a lot of strength. Then there's the whole ‘ain't no frets so you gotta know where to put the fingers’ thing. I knew I was in trouble a while back. Real trouble.

So... five minutes a day. For about a month. No more, that's bingeing—just asking for serious hand injuries, and designed for the specific failure of not being able to suddenly find massive amounts of spare time in a life full of hard days and therefore giving it up as impossible.

Two months in and I played the upright on my new version of Poor Man's Wine. I would admit to a friend that I didn't feel as comfortable as I did when I was playing for hours most days. But I listen back to the track and it absolutely works. Yeah, guess I’m still a bass player. Feels good.

There's also a side bonus—because I’ve started to make time for just a few minutes of bass every day, it occurs to me to pick up the instrument at other times outside of those few minutes. One of those weird spin-offs that’s hard to explain. (And somehow related to how back when I had guitar students I would ask them to leave their instrument someplace handy—not in its case. So they could just pick it up when the impulse hit. Not only would they pick up the instrument more often—the two minutes I suggested often turned into much longer. Just part of how this whole thing works.)

A few minutes. Applied consistently.

How do I apply the thought?

Try this—at one point in my life I played whole a lot of flute. It's the only instrument i ever picked up that I didn't have to learn how to play. Felt more like remembering. As a reference--here's a flute-led track from an Anderson & Brown CD. Traditional tune. My weird setting. Of course, The Anderson on harp. Al Cross on drums. David Woodhead on bass (and bass-driven live-tracked synth). Steáfán Hannigan on Irish pipes.

But bills had to be paid. And then health challenges made it pretty much impossible to play. After far too long I was finally able to sort out the physical challenges. But my dear friend still sat on the shelf. A little while ago I realized I had a decision to make.

So I made it.

A few minutes. Every day.

At first I couldn't go more than three minutes without aching in small muscles I’d forgotten even existed. After a week I could do five minutes. But no more. Then I made a very scrappy recording of an improvised guitar thing in a vibe I figured I wouldn't mind living with for a while.

It was ten minutes long.

The first time I tried to play along on the flute, by the end I literally could not feel my face.

But midway through that week I could reliably hit the lowest note on the instrument. A deep, rich low C. Which had been pretty much purely aspirational ten days before. At the end of the second week of ten minutes a day I recorded another scrappy improvised guitar thing, with another vibe. By the end of that week I could play for ten minutes reliably. But not two minutes more.

I’m sharing this with you now because this one's fresh. I’m now closing in on two months. Could I play that A&B track like I recorded it? Absolutely not.

But that weird, dark tone I’ve always had now comes without me working it. The improvised notes come without me thinking about where to put my fingers. My face no longer aches in ways that are hard to explain to strangers.

And me and my few minutes a day have already reclaimed my profound love of an instrument I honestly thought I’d had to give up.

Yeah. If I only had one thought to share. That’s it.

Small things.

Over time.

Massive impact.

Now go play.

/k