Excellence

Last week, I set some pretty big goals for 2012. 

They may be ambitious, but I’d rather set new lifestyle goals – habits to build into my everyday life and work – than set temporary points of achievement that can simply be crossed off my list (i.e. finish reading the book on my nightstand).  Excellence is one of those lifestyle goals.

It’s one of those things that people talk about in an idealistic, undefinable sort of way.  Sometimes, it is equated with perfection; other times, it is described as a blissful moment of achievement and arrival. 

While in music school, excellence was constantly at the forefront of my mind.  It was the expectation of my studio teachers.  It was the ideal quality of every performance.  It was the satisfaction of progress and success. 

But still, I struggled to define it.  After years of chasing the idealistic, undefinable form of excellence, I wanted more.

“We are what we repeatedly do.  Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.” -Aristotle 

As a lifestyle, I want to re-commit to excellence every day.  I want to practice excellence in the dish-washing, piano-teaching, laundry-folding, house-cleaning, course-writing, bulletin-proofing moments of life.  In pursuing this goal in my own life, these things stand true:

• Excellence is a standard I set for myself, not based on others.

• It’s the pursuit of high, artistic quality and the commitment to be the best I can be.

• It is a commitment to invest myself fully in whatever I am doing (one.thing.at.a.time).

• Along with that, it’s the simplification of what I do.  It requires me to re-focus my priorities and choose to do better at less rather than be mediocre at more (and live a life of grace).

• It is the challenge of artistry.

• Excellence is my measure of success.

I have a story about this.

Several years ago, I spent 7 months taking piano lessons from Louise Barfield. 

I was finishing my bachelor’s degree at the time and preparing for grad school auditions.  After that first 2-hour lesson on a hot, summer afternoon and not making it past my scales, I knew I had my work cut out for me.  Mediocrity and middle-of-the-road standards were not going to fly.  Truth be told, I didn’t think I could be anything more. 

One day, Louise said, “You can be as great as you want to be.  You just have to set your mind to it.”  I confess now that I didn’t wholeheartedly believe her.  Everyone can’t just go out there and be exactly what they want to be. . .or can they? 

Together, we set ambitious goals. 

I practiced more than I had in my life.  I drove two hours each way – twice a week – for 2-hour lessons.  I set my sights on getting into Eastman‘s Accompanying Program.  In February of 2008, I flew up to Rochester, NY, took an audition with the head of the department, and in a dream-come-true whirlwind was offered acceptance a few short weeks later.

Some may say that excellence is an arrival point – that Friday night phone call from the Director of Admissions – but for me, excellence is the journey – the months of dedicated, passionate work; the frustration, the tears, and the joy; the responsibility to myself to truly be the best I could be – that is the pursuit of excellence.  I didn’t know this at the time but Louise did. 

Never before had someone had such faith in me and the determination to make me recognize my own potential.

Excellence is the journey.

Evermore and Evermore

Sometimes, days seem to last forever. Sometimes, things don’t come together like I think they should. Sometimes, I let myself get beaten down by people who criticize what I do. Sometimes, I get lost in the bulletins, the extra rehearsals, the folders of music, and the long staff meetings. Sometimes, I’m not very good at showing grace.

The choir is diligently working on a gorgeous arrangement (Jay Rouse, for all you choir directors out there) of one of my most favorite Christmas hymns – “Of the Father’s Love Begotten” (listen here).  Although we spent rehearsal worrying over notes, struggling with the 6/4 meter, and dealing with quick page turns, I was reminded of the power behind these words and the reason for which we are singing when I re-read the text:

Of the Father’s love begotten,
Ere the worlds began to be,
He is Alpha and Omega,
He the source, the ending he;
Of the things that are, that have been,
And that future years shall see,
Evermore and evermore!

Before the world began, He was.  He knows my past, my present, and my future.  He is the source of life.

O ye heights of heaven adore him;
Angel hosts, his praises sing;
Powers, dominions, bow before him,
And extol our God and King;
Let no tongue on earth be silent,
Every voice in concert ring,
Evermore and evermore!

What else can we do but sing His praises?  Let no tongue on earth be silent… let every voice sing out!

Christ, to thee with God the Father,
And, O Holy Ghost, to thee,
Hymns and chant and high thanksgiving,
And unwearied praises be;
Honor, glory, and dominion,
And eternal victory,
Evermore and evermore!

As much as I try to change my expectations . . . people still disappoint me.
As much as I try to be prepared at all times . . . I will never know exactly what the future holds.
As much as I try to hold back . . . I still find myself saying the wrong things at the wrong time.
As much as I try to be professional in what I do . . . people will still find reason to criticize me.

And yet, we are called to let our praises be unwearied amidst our weariness.  To Him be honor, glory, dominion, and eternal victory – victory over the things I say, victory over the actions I take, victory over the people who try to discourage me, victory over me.

What an overwhelming sense of peace this brings to my heart tonight as I write.  Wishing you this type of peace this season.

Image Credit: personal

Keeping Up

We're at the 19-day marker, y'all.

It sounds a little better right now to say "a little less than three weeks" — seems like that gives us more time to get everything in order for the BIG DAY. 

• We have collections of pewter dishes, ribbons, wine bottles, and Christmas decorations (from the Christmas Choir Kick-Off this weekend) lining our entryway. 

• I have about eight pieces of clothing hanging on my closet door (literally since the first week of August) to bring to the dry cleaner. 

• I am going to try on my dress this weekend for the first time since April. 

The pace of life is fast right now... and by fast I mean flying.

This week, that meant typing up grant applications for the WCMW while driving to VT for wedding errands, emailing schedules to the wedding vendors while sitting at the laundromat, checking emails on my Blackberry in between choir rehearsals, and writing out the seating chart for the rehearsal dinner on scratch paper in the car. 

Oh, and I downed my coffee/hot chocolate this morning in three minutes flat before running out the door to get ready for church.

The question, "Am I keeping up with everything?" is one that I ask myself at least five times a day. Can you relate?

Albert Einstein has some pretty great words of advice for people like us: "Life is like riding a bicycle: In order to keep your balance, you must keep moving." 

I think balance is a key word here. 

Forward motion is important, but it doesn't drive everything.  In order to get everything done that needs to be done, I need balance in my life.

For me, balance means:

• taking a breather from emails on the weekends (at least from my school account)

• spending less time on my laptop/Blackberry on the weekends in general

• taking time to cook dinner with Steve on weekend nights (last night, we made apple- and bacon-stuffed pork chops with a maple glaze)

• not lingering at church after the service — cleaning up the Choir Room can wait until Monday evening

• making time to do something on the weekend that I wouldn't normally do during the week (for instance, yesterday, I made fresh guacamole... up until the point when I sliced my finger open with our brand new tomato knife.  Steve had to take over on this one.)

• spending a few minutes at the end of each day writing down everything I want to remember in the morning

• taking a short walk to the Post Office after lunch (fresh air + exercise + no Blackberry = mental breather)

• sending more emails from my Blackberry during the day (in between things) rather than waiting until I am at my computer again

How do you keep up?  How do you achieve balance in everyday work?

Oprah Winfrey: Interview

"What are you really passionate about?"  "What would you do if you didn't have fear?"  "How can you use your life as a service to yourself, your family, and your community?" These are just a few of the challenging questions Oprah asks herself and those listening to this interview (from last week, September 8, by the way).  It's a message of authenticity and real-life experience.  Be you.  Be true and authentic.  Be the best you can be.  And don't let fear hold you back.

Watch the video here.

Possibility

"Dwell in possibility..." - Emily Dickinson To dwell in possibility is to claim hope.  The idea of possibility strengthens the confidence we have in ourselves.   “You can and you will,” it whispers.  “Nothing is impossible.”  I think we often get caught up in the realities of life – we’re encouraged at some point to ground our dreams and ideas so they are more attainable and more realistic.  There are some things we just can’t and won’t be able to do.  Face the reality.  As it turns out, our reality is what we make of it.  Never be afraid to dream big, to set seemingly unattainable goals, to work hard, to take action turning new ideas into reality.  As Audrey Hepburn once said, “Nothing is impossible, the word itself says ‘I’m possible’!”

What is doubt saying is impossible for you?

For me, it’s achieving excellence in music performance where the most impossible task always seems to be overcoming myself – overcoming the intimidation of being vulnerable and completely exposed.  It’s learning to let go of situations that are beyond my control and keeping calm in my heart.  It’s setting work aside, turning off all of the creative ideas in my brain, and living.

Reality is what you make of it, friends.  Will you choose to dwell in possibility?

A Day with Alice Parker

Recently, I had the opportunity to attend a choral workshop in western Massachusetts with Alice Parker.  The soft-spoken, grey-haired woman dressed in bright colors had the room of 15 attendees mesmerized for two 3-hour sessions.  You’d never know she was in her mid-eighties.  In addition to reflecting on her experiences (her time at Juilliard and the opportunity to work with the great Robert Shaw), Alice spoke of the qualities that make music powerful and captivating.

We spent the morning singing and improvising folk songs with a focus on accents, melody, and text.  Never before have I paid such close attention to the melody!  In our Western culture, we place so much emphasis on harmony that the inherent value of the melody is often lost or obscured.  Alice states in her book (The Anatomy of Melody, p. xv):

Western music is the only society to list harmony right up there in the trinity of musical greats.  But I don’t think it belongs there.  If melody (tones) and rhythm (time) are intrinsic to human beings, then harmony is a subset of melody.  It is no more on the same level as melody than vertical combinations of rhythmic figures would be equal to rhythm itself.  Should we say melody, harmony, rhythm, and polyrhythms?

With this mindset in place, a room of music professionals enjoyed singing elementary-level music in unison.  There was freedom and flexibility in the music-making and almost no accompaniment.  What better way to teach choral music, especially for children?  In the afternoon, we observed a coaching session between Alice and a high school chorus from the area.  What incredible insight as to how to truly embody music and communicate its fullest potential.  Lastly, Alice focused on departure from the written score and greater reliance on the ear.  She also speaks about this in her book (The Anatomy of Melody, p. xxii):

I have come to realize over the years that a healthy mistrust of written music is the only proper starting point.  The page doesn’t mean what it seems.  It’s only a beginning (sight) not an ending (sound). . . .Does a song you know leap out at you with the immediacy of a remembered voice?  Or do the symbols lie obstinately flat on the page with the attendant words similarly meaningless?  To understand what I am attempting here, realize that I am trying to balance two antithetical worlds at once–those of eye and ear–and in this case, ear must always triumph not only in notes, but in the written text where a living voice must be sounding for you to begin to respond in kind.  And respond, aloud, you must!  Sing, argue, affirm, correct–the page does not live until you enter into its dialogue with your ear, voice, and mind.

Image Credit: personal