Subway Rides and the Daily Grind

Sometimes I have to move around the city with my cello and sometimes it has to be at rush hour.  But because I had my cello this morning and got squished next to a woman that I got on at 86th St, I got to hear about her experience playing in the Met Orchestra.  She's a cellist too and had jury duty before she had to play an opera this evening.  It was interesting to hear her perspective on orchestral playing and gigging in New York.  It's her job to have a different schedule every week, playing different productions.  What a life.  Yesterday one of the fathers in my early childhood music class was a Tony-awarded orchestrator and conductor for Broadway.  Who knows what the other thousands of people around me do in their day-today?

Sisyphus Stones

A stone I died and rose again a plant;

A plant I died and rose an animal;

I died an animal and was born a man.

Why should I fear? What have I lost by death?

-Rumi

https://www.nytimes.com/2017/09/14/nyregion/a-mystery-solved-why-the-sisyphus-stones-rise-and-tumble.html?_r=0

Waves of Possibility

One of the great things about having so many students is that it is impossible to hide from myself.  Meaning, I have to confront what I'm teaching and passing along because I see it right back at me many times throughout the week, enough so to rule out chance or individual student differences to some degree.  At the very least, I see the different shapes that my words and actions form on various terrains of young and older minds and the minds of parents.  Over and over, I question that I am transmitting what I value and over and over I see reflected that I may not actually be living and sharing what that is.

But with so many students, there isn't a ton of time to deeply reflect, or reorganize, or arrange, and so reflection and growth seem to be happening on the fly as I have to reckon with the results.  I wonder what I would have thought if I had known that any of my teachers was still learning how to teach, was wrestling with trying to understand how to handle any of the many challenges I know I threw at them.  Without saying so, I beg the patience of my students and hold a deep gratitude for their trust.  But since what I really want to teach is listening, and joy, and possibility, and love, and because there are so many ways to all these things, maybe it's time to be more vocal of both my humility and appreciation.  

Open Sky in a Crowded Space

There are a few subway stations where there is are huge elevators that transport people to the platform rather than stairs or an escalator.  168th street is one of them.  While some of the elevators depend on operation by the passengers, there are others that are operated by an MTA employee.  This person sits in a hot, stuffy, crowded space for hours with grumpy, anxious, tired people, pushing one of two buttons:  Platform or Street.  Sometimes they have a fan, sometimes a radio.

I suppose it makes sense that one would develop strategies for this sort of job.  Nevertheless, it was a fresh breeze to be wished a good safe evening my this gentlemen, and to witness the entire elevator of New Yorkers change their posture and most gratefully return the wish from such an unexpected source.  This was a New York boatman from Siddhartha, transporting us back and forth, breathing in the angst and returning an open sky in a crowded space.

Self-Doubt

One of my students has been working on the same piece for awhile.   He has ADHD and it can take of bit of time for things to all click together in the way they need to when playing the cello.  Hooked bows, shifts, intonation, hand positions, etc.  He's also one of the sweetest kids I've ever worked with.  His mother has talked to me a lot about his frustrations with practice during the week and we've come up with strategies to help.  But in our last lesson she brought up that he had been feeling some self-doubt.  That's a little more than I had heard in the past, and so I just had to sit with it for a moment when she said it.  How does one respond to a 10-year-old feeling self-doubt?  The irony is that I had been feeling the same way recently.  To respond to him was, in a way, to respond to myself.  If I could tell him off-handedly not to worry about it, I should be able to believe it for myself.  It's so easy to say, Oh you're fine!  But what if it isn't.  So I had to pause.

I wasn't ready to give a full answer.  I'm still not brave enough.  In the end I spoke about what a gift he has that he shares with others through his music, how much inspiration others take from him.  This is completely true.  There is something special about his playing.  And he has no choice but to serve that.  That was all I could give him in that moment.

But for myself, when faced with this sort of issue, I have to dig deeper to actually resolve it to any satisfaction and that's where I don't know how to help him or others.  I feel inadequate in other ways in my teaching, but I wish for more courage to walk with someone in their self-doubt, in their confusion, in their frustration.

I'm approaching the other side of the hill in terms of how many students I have.  Just a little earlier, it was too many, but now that I have a few more, I'm failing to resist it so much and just going with the flow.  Perhaps I'll find a respite in the waves and discover what it is I'm hoping to convey for myself and them.

Marcel

I learned that Marcel's name was Marcel when he was filling in for our regular doorman and helped me track down a package.  During that first interaction, he was helpful, but didn't strike me as particularly friendly.  He had a straight-faced approach to my request, suggesting that I check what time it should have been delivered and further suggesting (perhaps due to his past experience) that I wouldn't be inclined to go through that trouble.  I don't remember how the whole thing ended, but I got my package and asked him his name in the process.

And not uncharacteristically, this evening as I was walking up what seemed an empty sidewalk to our apartment I heard a voice yell, "Hello Andrea!" and a hand wave from a first floor window.  It was Marcel, guarding another building and greeting me happily at the end of a day.  It's not lost on me how much inertia is overcome in such a greeting.  Nor do I miss the the gratitude that I feel for it.

Fall

One of the most annoying things about being a musicians is giving up a good gig.  It kept me up the other night and still eats at me.  The reason I did it was to honor my teaching commitments.  Am I good person or just suffering from lopsided self-knowledge?  I miss playing seriously.  And it grates a little more on me that I my students don't yet know how to share the intense passion I have for it.

In giving it up, I've realized its value and that's even more valuable than the gig itself.  These mini-deaths are so important to live and relive, and thanks to my never-ending ignorance, I get to do just that.  There will always be another regret, and in those blessed regrets, opportunities to love something more and more deeply, to have a greater appreciation and gratitude for what is valuable.  When I played in an orchestra everyday, it drowned me.

But now, I have less patience for apathy, both in myself and in my students.  We are alive.  We have the opportunity to feel, and touch, and experience and share with one another.  How will we live up to this potential as fully as possible?  It is the time of year when light is leaving us, and somehow everything seems far more precious.

Moments of Respite

After a reset day of sleep, practice, and a run, Andrew and I ventured to Bryant Park via Times Square.  There are so many New Yorks.  The calm river run of the day, the respite of being indoors, the crowded subway, the bright lights of Times Square, the loud music and sirens and horns, the fancy shop windows on 5th Avenue, the smells of roasted nuts, sewers, subway corners, meat skewers, and candy shops.  In the midst of all the noise and bustle we encountered a Mennonite choir within the Times Square subway station.  People pushed by, some stopped to take pictures.  They were visiting from many places, many denominations gathered to spread the word of God's love for those seeking it through singing.  It was a lovely respite, even for those of us not seeking.