Breathing wildly.

My friends are amazing. They stood outside a Toys ‘R’ Us at 8:00am in the cold the other week on the day it was rumored there’d be a fresh supply of Nintendo Switches and picked one up for me (I had other engagements at the time). After paying them back and picking up a copy of its most prominent game I proceeded to spend an embarrassing amount of time last week in its world. I don’t think I can add anything to the praise it’s gotten. It’s a fantastic game and I’m really enjoying it.

Problem is, I can easily sink three or four hours into it without even noticing. And that means less time for all those “terrifying creative endeavors” I keep saying I want to pursue.

I voluntarily took Thursday, Friday, and Saturday away from it, mostly because it was Holy Week and I wanted to focus my attention on that. But after spending another four hours playing it today, I realize how valuable taking time away from it is. Saturday I got in practice time for both ukulele and harp, which I rarely have the attention span to do. A little regular self-denial would do me good, I think.

I’ve been neglecting writing, though. I intend to make time for that this week, as well.

Practice.

Realized this morning when I woke up that I’d missed my self-imposed deadline (Saturday) for a weekly post. I could pretend that I’m giving up self-imposed stress for Lent or that the calendar week ends on Sunday, but the truth is that I simply forgot. Last week was not fantastic for me—Murphy’s law in full effect plus lots of stressful commitments all running together. I barely got in any harp practice time, let alone writing. Though I did stumble upon this useful TED-Ed video, “How to practice effectively… for just about anything”:

The “wham line” of the video for me is probably this:

“Effective practice is consistent, intensely focused, and targets content or weaknesses that lie at the edge of one’s current abilities.”

When I practice harp, or piano, or any other instrument, I more or less sit down and pluckĀ  (or plunk) out whatever I feel like. I guess there’s value to improvisation and playing by ear, and it’s how I discover new things. But I’m not reinforcing important basic skills. I know at least my finger independence is pretty underdeveloped, not helped by the fact that my fingers and brain seem to have some odd quirks that limit my coordination. (The most annoying and visible one is that if I make a motion with one hand, I unconsciously make the same motion with my other hand, just weaker. Oddly I haven’t tried Googling this until just now–turns out it has a name: congenital mirror movement disorder.) I’m sure I’m unintentionally cementing bad habits in my brain, too.

Additionally, I feel I would do well to remember these four tips from the video:

  1. Focus on the task at hand. Minimize distractions.
  2. Start out slowly, or in slow motion.
  3. Use frequent repetitions with allotted breaks.
  4. Practice in your brain, in vivid detail.

New goal: to get through Volume 1 of the self-teaching book I have (Pamela Bruner’s Play the Harp Beautifully!) by the beginning of summer.

Seeking community.

This week I had the chance to go to a rock and gem show with a dear geologist friend, and half the enjoyment was watching her getting excited and talking about all the rocks on display. She met several folks with the same interests and made a few new friends in the few hours we were there. Her passion is gemology and jewelry making (I own a few of her pieces, gifts from various holidays past) and she has a real talent and good artistic eye.

There is tremendous value in community, as I was reminded watching my friend today. It’s soul-enriching to meet people who love the same things you do and want to share in the joy of them. I suppose that should be on my goal list this year—to find communities for my own interests. SCBWI meetups, local music groups and classes… it’s all a bit scary for a shy person like me. But I think complacent isolation makes the fear and self-doubt ghosts seem bigger, and limits my growth.

Also: got my (fixed) harp back! No excuses for not practicing now.

Adventures in un-ickying.

Tried un-ickying my goals this week and ended up writing a list of musical instruments I want to eventually learn how to play, ranging from the tin whistle to the $2,000 Array mbira (seen in this video). Retitled the list “How I Will Go Bankrupt.”

My harp’s still in the shop. They say they’ll need to contact the manufacturer and get parts, which means I’ll probably be harpless for a while yet. I should focus on my other, functional instruments.

On the writing side of things, I finally compiled and sent my responses to my friend who critiqued my second draft. Now I need to start looking toward Draft #3, which I’m determined will not take four-and-a-half years like last time.

Keeping it up.

Wanting to remind myself of how serious I am about writing, I joined the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators this week. It’s something I’ve been looking at for a long time, and with this second draft finished and revisions underway I feel like I could get more use out of the resources it offers. That is, if I can concentrate and apply myself enough. Maybe one day I’ll have the money and the body of work and the confidence to attend their New York conference.

I’ve also taken in one of my aforementioned folk instruments, a little lever harp, in for repairs. A couple of the levers have gotten buzzy and I’ve been using that as an excuse not to practice. Sending it in is not only to remove that excuse, though; it’s also to remind me how much I enjoy it. Somehow, even with how I’ve been slacking at practicing, not having it in the house makes me miss it, and more resolved to keep at it once it comes back.

My self-discipline has been lacking recently, even at work. I need to watch less TV and remember where my passions lie.