Diving Into Something New?
CONSIDER THIS BEFORE YOU START
I looked out the window yesterday to see Max, my 20 year old son, leaving to go and practice with a new band.
He’s a student at Berklee and the pandemic has temporarily eliminated a key component of being a music student. While they can learn on zoom, they can’t practice with other musicians as the platform only allows for one voice (instrument) at a time.
I was happy that a local band had figured out a way to hold a socially distant practice outdoors and had invited Max to sit in.
Here’s the thing…
The instrument he was carrying was a keyboard and Max is a bassist.
He’s been fiddling with the keyboard all summer, learning to accompany himself while he’s up in his loft riding out the solitude. But while Max is a pretty talented kid, he is just learning to play piano.
My stomach actually lurched.
Is he ready to take that on in front of other people? Ugh.
"But that’s how he learned to play bass," I told myself. (He’d never even picked up an instrument before he joined a friend’s band in his junior year of high school.)
Max learns by diving in and doing it. He doesn’t research first. He doesn’t make a plan. And he’s doesn’t care who's watching while he's figuring it out.
My husband is the same way. Paul always wanted to sail, so he bought a boat, took a couple of weekend lessons, and started sailing.
We had some hairy moments.
But for me back then - this was over a decade ago - they had more to do with who was watching than anything else. (If you’ve ever spent time at a marina, you know that watching other boaters leave or come back into their slip is a popular spectator sport, with shouts of encouragement, advice, applause and even the occasional jeer from the more lubricated onlookers.)
My daughter Lilah and I - the opposite of Max and Paul - tend to be similar in our approach to new things. We research, we plan, we prepare. And we do it in private.
Both approaches work.
All four of us manage master the thing we set out to master. Though, inherent in Lilah’s and my chosen method, there’s an anticipated "readiness" which never quite arrives.
Walking my talk as a coach and jumping in, even when I’m afraid, made me think I had conquered the "readiness" thing – and in many ways, I have.
But as I watched Max drive off, something else was pulling at me.
He’s clearly having more fun than I am.
I think it’s because he’s happy (and willing) to learn publicly. And if that's all I need to do to have a little more fun in my life, I think it's worth a shot.
This Week: PLAY. Who cares who's watching?
Start the week out by asking yourself two questions:
Am I willing to start before I'm ready?
Do I care who's watching?
If you answered YES to number 1 and NO to number two, give yourself a big pat on the back and go out and have some fun learning something new.
If you answered NO to 1 or YES to 2, it's time to get present.
Both learning and fun happen in the present moment. Worrying about being ready, getting it wrong, or what people will think only happens when your mind wanders into futurecasting. Each time you find yourself in that space, take a breath and refocus on what you're doing. Try not to take yourself too seriously and give yourself permission to have fun.
Let me know how you do!!!!