Life, as a Wave

A member of my Untapped Genius online discussion group posted a question on the notion of "hard work":

"I am thinking that this perspective I have about hard work could be a mistaken notion. So, I am open to hearing from anybody who has discovered that such intense effort alone will not accomplish much."

My response:
Ken, I can relate deeply with this and have done an about face on the notion of hard work so highly valued in the world. I know what intense effort with zero or little outcome is all about. I have tried forcing, pushing, sacrificing, and persevering while pursuing my dreams.

There were times during my music training days where I'd practice sometimes 12-15 hours a day, often to the sacrifice of sleep, eating well, and the integrity of my body. And when I wasn't practicing, I was listening to music, talking about music, and dreaming about music.

Don't get me wrong. I loved the intense obsession I had with music; it was a blast! And certainly, more or less consistent action is a necessary component to achieving whatever goal you may have. But, in my case, the notion of working “hard" left me burned out, overwhelmed, out of balance, and, in the end, it destroyed my dream of 'being the next George Bension' on guitar.

Plagued with bursitus of my right shoulder that would not go away, I was eventually forced to put down the guitar and decided to pursue my interest in electrical engineering. But my passion for music would not go away and shortly after graduating, I turned once again back to my passion for playing music, this time, with drumming.

And again, I put all my time and effort into my music. And again, I burned out. At one point, I finally realized that what I was doing was just not ever going to work and decided that, for the most part, I would now chuck out the notions of discipline, sacrifice, struggle, stress, rushing, and pushing forward, and to look for a new approach.

I looked to life itself as a guide to building a base in which to build my own model for living. I started with a simple notion - that life itself is only looking for one thing, more of itself. My "job," therefore, would be to “make it easy for life to move, expand, and become more through me."

How?

To answer this I went to the natural world, kids, athletes, masters and experts, and (now my instrument of choice) my drum.

After injuring my hands and shoulder (again), getting ugly calluses, and feeling worn out after playing my djembe (a west African hand drum) all fit into the “work hard" framework. Instead, after nearly giving up on music (again), I did an about face and began to "seek the effortless." I would now find ways to do things more easily, to accomplish things with less sweat equity. I would allow myself to reconnect to the joy of playing and have it drive the progress.

Sounds so nice, doesn’t it? Effortless. Great notion, but it flys in the face of everything I had been taught about the ethic of hard work and sacrifice. But I had no choice; I had to find another way.
And here’s what I've come to realize:

1. The masters make it look easy – because it can and ultimately should be.
2. Kids, while in massive action with their play, are not "working hard" at it.
3. With drumming:
   1. It is possible to play for hours without getting tired or sweating. Playing at a fast tempo, loud volume, or complex patterns need not demand more effort. I may have massive energy going through me, but the perceived effort, when playing at my very best, is zero.
   2. The key for me is to open up the "flow valve" so that life, intelligence, source, spirit, higher-self, or whatever you want to call it, the music, can move unimpeded through my body, my arms, fingers, and finally through the drum head.
   3. Paradoxically, the key to playing fast or difficult patterns is to actually reduce effort and make my hands super light. And there should be no difference in effort going from, say, a slow whole-note pattern to a fast 16th note pattern.
   4. I know I’m doing it right when my hands seem to float above the head of the drum, and it feels like the music is doing its thing through me, as opposed to me doing the music. I'm simply the conduit or channel for the music to flow through.
   5. The instant my brain tries to step in and control the music, I know it because I’ll notice my hands will hurt, or I'll hear a little glitch in the sound (these act very much like instant bio-feedback systems – they tell me if I just opened or closed my “flow valve").

In general, I’ve learned that I can be in massive effort and yet remain in a sense of stillness. It's identical to when I'm snow skiing down a hill going over the moguls or through the trees. I'm flying down the hill, my leg muscles pumping away, my mind making split-second decisions, yet, there is a part of me that is doing nothing except observing the terrain and watching my body do its thing.

Bottom line: whether in music or in life, action does not have to equal struggle or depletion of energy. Have you ever had days where you were in massive flow, did a bunch of stuff, but had more energy at the end of the day than in the beginning? Your energy level does not just depend on the amount of work you're doing; it depends also on how you are doing it.

For instance, in the creative domain, instead of, say, sitting down in front of my computer and trying to force the ideas to come, I will instead often allow my mind to go into a "blank canvas" mode. I simply go blank. From this ‘still point,' new and fresh ideas will eventually emerge from the invisible. My most productive moments with writing are often while taking short naps with a tape recorder by my side. I'll allow myself to put my work aside and do "nothing." It's amazing how I can get so much done by doing nothing!

By doing nothing and letting it all go, in affect, I am "turning down the loud music" (the inner ramblings of my head) so that I can hear the "whispers" of a higher domain where the juiciest ideas are born. Moving toward mastery of my instrument, or anything at all, is dependent upon my capacity to read the subtle signals of my body and mind. Beauty is found in the details.

When I started to pay close attention to how I was doing things in my daily life, I was shocked at how HARD I was making things!! But as I practice giving myself permission to go in the opposite and seek the effortless, I often get much more accomplished, and my best work happens.

How hard are you working?

• How tight are you holding the pen as you write?
• Are your tendons in your hands and wrist tight as you type on your keyboard?
• Do you scrunch your face and furl your brow when you're reading or learning something? It's a great way to give yourself low blood sugar and tension headaches. That's for sure!
• How about when you are doing the dishes, washing your hair, or driving your car? How much perceived effort, rigidness, or struggle is there?

It can actually be a ton of fun doing everyday tasks with a sense of smooth movements and even pace. OJ Simpson, once a key running-back for the Buffalo Bills football team, once remarked that the key to his running was that he would hear his favorite song in his head and would “dance" to it while running! Imagine everything being a dance. You’ll never do dishes or the laundry the same way!

In summary:

• "Hard Work" = forcing or pushing through a “closed valve" or rigid body.
• "Seeking the Effortless" = reducing and eliminating all forms of “pushing."
• "Effortless flow" allows my "genius" to be expressed through the subtleties.
• Having clear intention and setting a “still point" will produce far better results than hard work ever allowed, simply because it allows source to flow through me inimpeded.
• There of course is a place for structure, discipline, perseverence, and the like. But here we're talking about the other less-often acknowledged side of a more flexible, spontaneous, easier way of doing things - something that was once natural to us as children.

I now have been living the principle of seeking the effortless for several years. The results so far in my life? Here's a quick sample:

• My drumming is much more fluid, expressive, and fun.
• I'm now playing better tennis at 40 than when I was 15.
• My A.D.D. and other "brain glithes" are minimalized.
• I can multitask and flow through my work much more efficiently.
• I have much improved creativity.
• Problems are generally more easily resolved.
• I'm having a lot more fun.

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•   |76.180.92.xxx |2009-06-23 00:10:03 test  - Please comment
  I want to know what you think :-)
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