I woke up this morning feeling disheartened. I had come back from a snowboard trip with three other people, who I’d just met. At age 66, it was the first time that I felt like an old lady. The last day was horrible: the first run I fell on soft powder and it took forever to get back up, because the snow was soft, there was nothing to push against, and the edge of the snowboard kept getting buried deeper. Then for the rest of the day, I just couldn’t feel my balance or my board. So, I did what any good snowboarder would do. I said “enough” and went into the lodge and ordered a drink.
Over my hot toddy , I thought and thought… about my ex-husband who I left nine years ago, but who emotionally pulled away from me ten years before that… about the strong-willed woman I was riding with, and how much slower I was than her, in both boarding and getting ready…about losing my mouth guard (a most important protection device for a flutist) and how hard I try to keep track of things, but as soon as anything upsets my rhythm, I forget what I’m doing. Simply put, I thought about everything about me that wasn’t good enough. The old monster “comparison” was riding me harder than I rode that snowboard.
I envy those who can live day to day for enjoyment alone. I try not to compare myself to others and just enjoy, but there is something in me that has to have a certain amount of proficiency to be ok with myself. When I see someone with more than me, I feel less than. When I see what someone has or can do, it reminds me of my lack. Today it was a woman, my age, who was more in control of her snowboarding than me. In the past, I’ve felt less than those who are now retired with a pension that is larger than what I earn in a year, and from fellow musicians who are getting gigs while I’m not. I wonder how some flutists keep their teaching studios growing while mine is suffering attrition.
After a hard day on the slopes, and the self-loathing that goes with that, I got into a pity party. Luckily, I don’t stay at any type of party too long! I left my comparison companion at that party and started to think, “if it’s that hard for me to remain positive and optimistic, with all the advantages I have and have had, how hard it must be for someone who is really down and out.” When I connect with the compassion I feel for others, it helps me feel compassion for myself as well.
Having a purpose gives me the most enjoyment. To enjoy daily flute practice, especially with long tones, I have to make up games. The games’ challenges give me some sort of purpose. For long tones, it’s holding a note longer than fifteen seconds while staying in tune the entire time. For scales, I pick a speed and go around the circle of fifths, working to keep my focus so each scale is note perfect and in time, played in one breath, with only one breath between scales. For double and triple tonguing, I pick a speed that is just easy enough to sustain for one breath and try to tongue continuously for a minute before getting tongue-tied.
Teaching also gives me a purpose. When I gave a private lesson and helped a student figure out the rhythm for a duet filled with 32nd notes and rhythmic changes, I remembered how good it feels to make one person’s life a little better.
No matter what, I will have more than some and less than others. The challenge is being happy with who I am and where I’m at. My life isn’t just about trying to rise myself up—to be better and more accomplished. It is also about helping others rise up in their pursuits as well.