eudaimonia

my practicing manifesto

mandatory preamble:

i did a really stupid thing in college and got a minor in effortless mastery. whats that? a minor that makes you unemployable, thats what.

jokes aside, the effortless mastery institute was developed by kenny werner, and it is a method to remove the ego from playing music, and continuously be able to access flow state, or as kenny calls it, the space.

i studied directly under kenny, and i'll tell you, he's a wackjob, but the concept of effortless mastery is one that has ensconced itself into the rest of my life as a total spiritual practice. i'm a music teacher now, and i find that so many of the concepts i learned in those classes is directly applicable to the feedback i give to my students today.

one of the biggest, most humbling lessons i've learned: as an instructor it is not my job to make my students the most technically precise musicians that have ever existed; my job is to instill a love of music in my students. it is only with love and care that incredible musicians are made, otherwise, burnout is inevitable. only with a love of music does one sit for hours on hours listening to themself fail before they are consistently succeeding.

thats how we get to the title of this post: eudaimonia. as defined by elizabeth gilbert in her book big magic, it is the way the ancient greeks described the highest degree of human happiness. it means "well-daemoned"; nicely taken care of by some external divine creative spirit guide. gilbert notes that modern commentators secularize this concept by calling it "flow" or "the zone" (or the space...).

so, i've been thinking about how to encourage my students to practice in a way that brings them joy, that makes them feel invited and excited, as opposed to burdened. much of my pedagogy revolves around doing the polar opposite of what my instructors did when i was growing up, and one of those things is making practice feel like a destination for freedom, not something you need freedom from.

i decided to try and verbalize the combination of knowledge i've learned from effortless mastery, from my spiritual and mindfulness practice, from my own relationship to, and experience in music, and what i've learned while teaching to create a guide for practicing that can be applied to any learnable skill. it is very fluid and self-guided, so you get out of it what you put into it. kind of like.... practice.

without further ado: eudaimonia

I believe there are two forms of development when it comes building a skill:

1. technique investment

2. joy investment

the use of the word investment here is highly intentional. there is one currency that we only ever lose and never gain, and that is time. since your time has an intrinsic value, you should invest it where it matters to you. if building your skill is something valuable to you, thats where you should be investing time.

technique investment involves choosing specific targets, goals or milestones. it involves intentional repetition around a specific technique or framework. successful technique investment yields consistent repeatability or hitting milestones. This is the kind of development that helps form specific growth, so if you want to play really fast chromatic lines on the violin, or lift a specific amount of weight at a bench press, this is the way to go.

joy investment has less to do with specific metrics or targets. the overall goal is longevity; developing a habit of practice. by continuing to develop your skill by simply doing it for a long time, a confidence and self-trust is built. the consistency and intentional attention involved with consistent practice is the goal of joy investment, and can yield access to the flow state, and of course, joy in the act of doing. this is the kind of development that helps build a bond between person and practice, so if you've ever said "i've always wanted to be someone who does ___", this is a great way to build a great relationship with the it.

neither investment is a death sentence; if you're at a phase in your practice where you need to transition from one to the other, you can do that without needing permission from anyone. its your time, you place it where it matters most to you.

beyond their definitions, technique investment and joy investment have different builds. its not a perfect science, but i believe the ratio that is ideal for both is as follow:

technique investment: 66% structured practice, 33% unstructured practice.

joy investment: 20% structured practice, 80% unstructured practice.

structured practice is practice that involves a specific plan or guideline to follow. it could be a specific melody line, a drawing technique, a particular lift. it is narrowing in on a part of practice to focus on with repition. for structured practice, i like to invoke the practice triangle, developed by kenny werner.

when you practice something using the triangle, you can only choose two of the three vertices: you can do it as fast as its meant to be done (up to tempo), and you can do it from start to end (all the way through), but that means you have to do it with reckless abandon, without going back to concern yourself with mistakes (perfectly). you could try and do it accurately, and at full speed, but try to take the smallest bite size version of it that you can do perfectly, and slowly make that tiny piece bigger and bigger. or, you can try to do it with accuracy, and do it all the way, but take it at total snail speed, almost ridiculously slow. this method works great for learning things that are physical, such as playing music, exercise, textile work, etc.

structured practice is critical, even in joy investment, because without it, many doors will feel closed, inhibiting progress. for better or for worse, that dopamine hit you get when you do something you couldn't do before is the whole reason we do things at all. by opening up your toolset and refining those tools, you avoid aimlessness, stagnation, and malaise

unstructured practice is practice that does not follow a plan. for most people, the hardest part about having a consistent practice is just getting yourself there and doing the thing. unstructured practice is meant to be intuitive; it only requires that you exercise the muscle responsible for the skill. just pick up and move the pencil, just get your sneakers on and run, just sit at the piano and play the keys. as a musician, one of my favourite ways to do this is to play a cello drone on youtube and improvise over it, or look up a random karaoke video and just sing. unstructured practice is important, even in technique investment, to maintain joy and inspiration. without it, the repetition and habit of practice ends up simply feeling like a chore, and will lack creativity.

like most things, creativity, inspiration, and practice are reliant on balance. a proper balance can help you develop a bond with your skill; you'll trust your inner genius, and that inner genius will trust you in return. to have this reciprocal relationship, no matter what form that relationship takes, is critical in it continuing. its like relationships with people; you just have to keep showing up for them, and it takes work and levity for it to be fulfilling. if you let yourself become vulnerable and open yourself up to your self-daemon, i promise, it will reward you handsomely.