I want to talk to you today about the idea of making space for what is most important to us. This can mean a lot of things. It can mean making sure you have enough time in your schedule, and it can also mean clearing some head space to make room. “What is most important” can be a lifelong value like “family” “Friends” or “making art” and it can also be a temporary one-time project. However you’re doing it, and For whatever “thing” you’re doing it for, one thing is for sure:
In March of 2020, everyone decided that they had been too busy. Their lives were too chaotic, filled with too many extraneous activities, and we, as a society, were all running on empty. We swore, once the world shut down and we were forced to experience a slower pace with more mental space than we could ever have imagined, (aside from, you know, keeping everyone healthy and safe, and not murdering the family members that were crawling all over you), that things had gotten out of hand, and we’d NEVER go back to those pre-Covid levels of busy-ness.
Guess what?
The #1 complaint I hear from people on discovery calls is that they don’t have time to do the things they want to do.
“I’m just so busy with the kids, and teaching, and my own performing”
“There aren’t enough hours in the day.”
“I’m so exhausted by the end of the day I can’t even imagine working on my own project.”
In 2 short years, we went from “we’ll never go back” to “I guess we’re back.”
Many moons ago, I was sitting in a conducting class at Tanglewood, and Daniel Barenboim was talking about Tempo, and how one goes about determining the speed and pacing of the music they are conducting or playing.
“It’s like packing for a trip.” He started.
“If you’re going away for a weekend, you only need an extra shirt, change of underwear, some socks, maybe a dress and a 2nd pair of shoes. Not much. Easy.”
But if you take those few things, and pack them in a large steamer trunk, by the time you arrive at your destination, you’ve got one shoe over here, and you can’t find the other one. There’s a shirt here, but the trousers that go with it are in some other compartment. Everything is too far apart, and you can’t see what goes together.”
It’s how you know your tempo is too slow. Everything is so spread out that by the time the phrase ends, you can’t remember how it began. Different themes become completely disconnected, and harmony changes don’t make any sense.
But, let’s say you’re going on a month-long holiday in Europe. You’re going to do some hiking, some swimming, attend a friend’s wedding, go to some nice dinners, and spend some time visiting the various city sights. So you need a lot of things–outdoorsy things, and your beach things, nice clothes, and a camera, and binoculars, and at least 4 different kinds of shoes. A lot. But you cram it all into a small duffel bag, so when you arrive at your destination, everything is all crammed in there together. Wadded up and wrinkled. You can’t find the dress you want to wear to the wedding because it’s squeezed between your hiking boots and your bathing suit.
It’s a disaster.
And that’s how you know that your tempo is too fast. There isn’t enough time between the notes to hear them for what they are. Phrases whiz by and the harmony changes so fast, and the listener can’t keep up. It’s chaos.”
And what is a piece of music if not a metaphor for life, right?
I had a cello student who (rather famously) was in about 3 after-school activities every day. 5 (FIVE!!) different instruments, 4 sports (simultaneously—we don’t have “seasons” here) plus debate, math club, church youth group, karate, and a dance class.
I asked him once which were his favorites.
“I dunno–I just go from one to the next. I don’t really think about whether I like it or not.” he said, looking a bit sad.
I’m sure it will be a surprise to no one that he wasn’t particularly good at any of them. He never had any time at home to practice anything–he never got to experience that feeling of working at something he loved and seeing himself get better at it. He ate dinner in the car most nights and got home just in time to do some homework and go to sleep. I often think about him and wonder if he’s recovered.
That kid needed some space. To think. To decide which of these activities he actually enjoyed. To spend time getting better at them. To learn how to determine which was most important to him.
In today’s rampant Hustle culture, being busy is a badge of honor in many places. I think that is starting to change (I hope that is starting to change) due to the increased awareness of the effects of burnout and the rise in mental heath issues.
And yet…as artists in particular, there is the pressure to take a gig the second it is offered to you. If you CAN do it, you SHOULD do it. After all, everyone is looking to make more money and be seen as valuable, and if you say no–they might not ever ask you again, right?
So we end up with jam-packed schedules. Waking up early to practice or get kids off to school–or both. Running around to a department meeting, picking up some art supplies. Taking a class, practicing more, then doing our admin work, another meeting, and then off to teach or to a rehearsal. Home at 10 pm. Glass of Malbec and some microwave popcorn for dinner. And do it all again the next day.
No wonder you’re tired. No wonder you don’t have time to work on your own projects. No wonder you’re asking yourself if this is what it’s always going to be like.
It doesn’t have to be. Let’s make some space.
Cal Newport’s latest book, Slow Productivity is a thin book. Short and sweet, but it packs an important punch. Its premise: The people throughout history who have made major contributions to culture and society (and he talks about everyone from Dante to Lin Manuel Miranda) did their work at an almost excruciatingly slow pace, and they all worked pretty much exclusively at that one thing. His three steps for success:
- Do less
- Obsess over Quality
- Work at a natural pace
It sounds a lot like how we learned our craft as kids. As a young dancer, musician, or actor, you likely worked on one piece, or show at a time. Had a lesson each week, likely did some other classes within that art form (Ballet, Jazz, and Tap as opposed to Ballet, Trumpet, and Debate club) and we weren’t forced to practice 12 hours a day. A little bit each day goes a long way is what we were told.
We did less. We obsessed over quality–hopefully in a healthy way–working hard to make each time better than the last, and we worked at a natural pace. It’s how you got to this advanced point in your career.
But now as adults, the tendency is to do to ourselves what my poor student’s parents were doing to him. Over-scheduling to the point of chaos. Shoving too many articles of clothing into our duffel bag lives.
But how does one make this shift while fully enmeshed in the status quo? You can’t turn down work because you’re not making enough as it is. You’re involved in your kids’ schools or your community boards. You volunteer, you chaperone, you chauffeur a bunch of pre-teens around every weekend.
I bet you CAN do it though. I bet, slowly but surely, bit by bit, you can start making more space for what is important to you. And in doing what is more important to you, you’ll likely end up making more money than you’re about to give up.
You give up the crappy $500/month adjunct job that sucks up your time and your will to live, but suddenly have 12 extra hours a month to spend on making art that you can sell for $1000 a pop.
You stop driving to that “okay” gig that’s a 3-hour drive and use that week to set up a successful fundraising drive for your new festival.
You give up teaching the after-school dance class that brings zero joy and have 3 hours a week to create your own company.
The steps?
1. This week, clear out one not-so-necessary item from your to-do list
This could be subbing out that memorial service you were going to play on Thursday morning, or ordering a pizza for dinner instead of cooking to give yourself an extra 45 minutes. Maybe you tell that student who is constantly canceling at the last minute that you’re sorry, but you can’t reschedule this week. Your job this week is to find 1 hour of space.
2. Spend that hour in service of something that feels important to you
Brainstorm ideas for your next creative project. Call your favorite aunt. Take your dog for a walk. Take your spouse for a walk. Bake cookies with your kids, bring that sourdough starter back to life, Or just listen to music that you love. Whatever you do, do NOT fill it with other tasks that feel unimportant. The purpose of this is to FEEL the space. Remember the endless hours of Covid lockdown when you’d wander around thinking “Now what should I do…..?” bask in that feeling for an hour.
3. Think about which things in your life you could give up, and put a price tag on them
Start brainstorming various ways you could make up that income elsewhere. Giving up that horrible teaching job that pays $30/hour, and taking on 2 new private students at $80/hour means that you’ve just traded 5 hours plus 1 hour of commuting at $150 a week for 2 hours at home for $160 a week. You’ve just given yourself 4 hours a week and an extra $10 bucks. (okay, minus taxes, but still…I’d say you’re coming out ahead)
Know that it’s going to feel strange. When you’ve been so busy for so long, and when you’ve been chained to the mindset that there is always something more productive that you could be doing, sitting in the spaciousness of time feels so wrong at first. Know that this is where the magical thinking occurs.
This is the space that allows you to notice the good ideas that have been lurking inside your brain. This is the space that keeps burnout from happening. This is the space that keeps anxiety at bay.
This space is the perfect sized luggage for your life. The suitcase that holds all of the important things you need to live your good life, and the space to see them all clearly.
Cheers, my friend!
Kate x
If you would like some guidance and support as you navigate towards this incredible version of yourself, let’s talk. I offer 1:1 coaching packages to creatives who are looking to find creative (and financial!) fulfillment, create a legacy they can be proud of, and create that incredibly rewarding life they were always meant to live. Book a free 30-minute discovery call HERE and we’ll see if this is the right fit for you.