The Silver Lining of Coronavirus

I’ve seen many people online reflecting on the “silver lining” of the current situation. It is interesting to hear others talk about what they are learning about themselves, and the new ways people are finding to pass the time. I have many friends who have lost their jobs. All of my concerts for the foreseeable future have been cancelled, but as scary and grim as it is out there right now, I think it is acceptable to see the good as well. Sometimes out of the bad, grows the new and sometimes the new is fresher and better than whatever we were forced to leave behind.

Now that we’ve been sheltering at home for…..how long has it been? I’ve lost track. I’ve gained some interesting perspective about myself.

Here are a few things I’ve learned:

• I’m a busy body by nature but I didn’t realize how exhausted I was just existing in the world. I typically work 6 or 7 days per week and I wasn’t aware what a toll it was taking on my whole system and I’m not just talking about feeling tired or stressed.

• My creativity feels like it has come back to life.

• There is balance in my life, I restrict my work to only 5 days per week.

• I love making music, and going on long walks.

• Not rushing through everything feels like such a simple luxury.

• Devoting time to projects that matter to me now feels essential to my daily routine.

• Having the time to literally stop and smell the roses is a blessing.

This time at home has shifted my priorities and clarified things that I was too busy or stressed to think about, and has given me goals that I want to pursue with clarity when life as “normal” resumes.

Is this the case for anyone else?

Suddenly, without the obligations I feel like I have returned to a state of my truest needs and desires. Does that resonate with anyone else? I keep finding myself thinking “Do I really want to play ~insert random gig~ when life resumes? Do I really want to go through the rat race of hoping to get hired for whatever little thing? Do I want to be anonymous violin player #2,347,000 in Los Angeles or do I want to invest my efforts in forging a new path that is completely my own? Can you guess what my heart keeps whispering? I know this will be a game of courage moving forward. It is always so easy to return to what is comfortable and easy.

To clarify: No, I have no intentions of giving up the violin. I simply feel like my goals and path have come sharply into focus. So what have I been filling my time with these days?

Here are a couple of the things I’ve been up to since the lockdown:

• I created a Wellness Chart to motivate me to move and make music every week. Turns out it is fun and helpful so I made it available to the world at large. You can grab one for yourself here.

*Disclaimer: I count many daily endeavors as movement, like sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, walking the dog, etc. and I also count anything that keeps me creatively engaged as a musician. So yeah, sometimes playing Disney songs really does the trick and sometimes figuring out audio equipment and recording ridiculous mic checks also satisfies this category.

• I realize that I engage with students in a special and unique way so I added a teaching section to my website and am building a catalogue of videos to help students. Check them out and let me know if they’re helpful for you, your kids, you students, or yourself.

• I started a Youtube channel and am less scared to share my playing with the world. This used to scare me tremendously but hell, I’m listening to Brené now and trying to act fearlessly.

*Disclaimer: Right now there are tons of teaching videos on there (see above bullet point) but there will be more performance videos soon.

• Speaking of…the Brené Brown journey was and continues to be quite the wake up call for me and I am not alone. I heard from so many people who could relate and commiserate. Shockingly they weren’t all violinists, or musicians, or even performers. So many of us carry this bulky useless shame baggage around with us and it is so limiting! Not to sound like a broken record or anything but, I am ready to do the work and I think I am at the very beginning of this journey. The current empty space in my life has given me time to investigate, grow, heal, and repeat and it is what I am most thankful for right now.

• Also, I love playing the violin. Practicing things I want to play is so liberating and it feels awesome to dig into the old classics. By classics I mean Vivalidi, Bach, Corelli, etc. I think it might have had something to do with reading books about Stradivarius recently. Also, I used to have so much Bach anxiety. I used to just tear myself apart about my performance, interpretation, intonation, bowing, etc. etc. etc. but it has been so nice to play it because I love it. Especially the Chaccone which I had always avoided because I didn’t want to “ruin” it. Now I am finally realizing that there is no ruining something that brings so much joy to my life (this is related to my Brené learning curve I think).

• I’ve set up my home recording “studio” thanks to the help of some dear friends (let’s call it how it is Matt Irwin and Alex Rose - you guys are the best teachers a violinist could ask for) who know much more about microphones etc. than I do. This is something I avoid for too long but thanks to Martin Chalifour, asking me to record with him recently, I was forced to figure this out sooner rather than later. Some of my anxiety has subsided and I can do a not stellar job, but at least I can do it. Now I just keep staring at the equipment and thinking of things I want and need to record.

• I’ve spent some much needed time on corpSonore organizing materials, expanding our community, and planning for the future and how we will grow. Now that I have the time to work on it, I want to commit ALL my time to it. I was never a person who considered herself good at sales, or interested in pitching things to you, or talking your ear off about products and features, but I swear if you get stuck in the elevator with me I will pitch you so hard on this. My passion for this has reprioritized what I want to do when lock down is over. Read this as your call to action, to join this community and the growth that I am determined to make happen.

• I have dived further into the GDR composer research and since writing my last post about it have written emails to people I never thought I’d be qualified enough to be taken seriously AND THEY WROTE BACK…AND THEY HELPED ME!!!! I can’t believe it. In my next post I will share some of the names of female composers from the GDR I have discovered and desperately need help finding the musical scores from their life. I can find absolutely nothing more about them and this feels strange. This project has turned into such a treasure hunt.

• Finally, I’m working on a collaboration with my beautifully talented friend Meghan Irwin, the illustrator who keeps everything Active Violinist more beautiful than I could ever hope or imagine. This is a project I’ve been thinking and dreaming of for five years and finally I have the mental space to move it along.

Conclusion:

It turns out I like spending time at home. It has forced me to figure out some things I’ve been avoiding, and has allowed me the time and space to explore things I really love. It has also given me the time to think and pursue my creative ideas, and the verve and passion to forge a path for corpSonore.

I I am grateful for the continued work with the LA Phil and my students. I love exploring Los Angeles, and I think I needed this forced time out to get a hold of my priorities.

But honestly, I want to know - do you feel the same about your time sheltering at home or has your experience been different? What is your unexpected silver lining?

The "Brené Brown Made Me Feel Things" Post

Warning! This is a vulnerable post. I don’t usually share my feelings with the Internet abyss, but this is an outpouring of feeling that I can finally articulate. I'm using this as a place to make sense of it.

I’m talking about shame. Professional Shame.

I know I’m late to the Brené Brown party, but I’m finally here. I recently listened to all 6-ish hours of The Power of Vulnerability over 2 days, and it rocked and is still rocking my world. I’m not sure why it took me this long. Maybe I was just resisting the inevitable. Perhaps deep down, I knew that these would be lessons that I needed to be ready for.

The Power of Vulnerability: Teachings of Authenticity, Connection, and Courage

By Brené Brown PhD

If you’ve ever seen or heard Brené Brown speak, you know that she is exceptionally engaging, funny, charismatic, and articulate. You laugh just as much as you learn, and you have so many “Oh! Me too!” moments when she shares personal anecdotes and stories from the research. It is incredible to hear her share such vulnerable stories so candidly in a way that unites the audience. You’re not laughing at her, you’re chuckling knowingly with her.

Over 6 hours, Brown frequently returns to the role of shame in our lives and the difference between shame and embarrassment. She emphasizes shames central role in the problems we have individually and collectively. I was shocked by my physical reaction to some of the explanations and stories of shame. I realized that these feelings have surrounded my music-making for years. But instead of shame, I've understood it as "not good enough." 

I could write about this for years. But when did this start? I can’t think of the last interaction I’ve had with a colleague where someone said or did something that suggested my playing was worthy of shame. Yet, the voice inside me is constantly reminding me that I am not worthy.

How did it get like this?

The Power of Vulnerability made me realize that I feel shame when I don't win, or when I'm surrounded by musicians with fancier resumes, or even admitting to these feelings. I can feel myself flush with the shame of not achieving just writing that last sentence. I have never before considered any of these feelings as shame. I would simply turn the mirror around and chastise myself for not being better. Then, I would practice more, work harder, sign up for more “tests” and feel the same feelings. Shame was manifesting itself in a tight loop of never feeling good enough and always like I had to prove myself. I'm still tempted to slip into this cycle. It is like a terrible security blanket.

But why?

I am just starting to unpack these emotions and patterns, but I've realized that for many years I was taught to feel shame about my playing. I studied with the same violin teacher in high school as in graduate school. It wasn't until after I left his studio the second time that I realized he “motivated” me with shame. This is complicated because the relationship between a teacher and student is extremely personal, and the dynamic in a private lesson is never the same between two lessons or two students. As much as I'd like to think that I treat my students entirely equally, there will never be a uniform interaction between myself and each student that I teach. It is impossible. However, there is knowing a student and fostering a healthy working relationship. Then there is knowing a student and manipulating them. 

I’m not sure if our interactions were as clouded when I was in high school and it escalated when I returned to his studio, or if it had always been like that. When I look back, I see the patterns that emerged out of working together over many years. Always, there was the idea that I had to be better, so I didn't embarrass myself or him. He mocked me in studio class in front of my peers. He would purposely embarrass and shame me in front of the string faculty. He told me it was my fault if I didn’t win an audition. He asked a guest artist to address the fact that I "freaked out" and couldn't control myself in performances (he actually said this at a masterclass while I was on stage).

I remember my cheeks flushing, and my knees locking as I braced against that public attack. In fact, while I often braced against it and – in public – appeared stable and unaffected, I was crumbling. When I played for him, his response was often, "Really? That's how you're going to play that?" or "Why are you playing like that? Nobody plays like that." He commented on my body, and he publicly criticized the clothes I wore. I was critiqued harshly if I followed my own musical (and eventually research) interests, so I started "whitewashing" my playing. I worked so hard to play only what was on the page. I removed my musicality and allowed him to tell me exactly how I should play the music. I realize now that I was bracing against him and putting up a wall for emotional safety.

I should have seen this as an indication of an unsafe learning environment. When we finally parted ways, it was not pretty, and I ultimately reported him to the dean of the music school. In our last interaction, he told me that I was too sensitive, and I always had been. I was so cut by that. I understood it to mean that I was weak. That I couldn’t’ handle it and all of my failures and shortcomings were my fault. I was ashamed. These feelings were coded into my violin playing. I left his studio and limped through the end of my Doctoral degree. I would never dare to diagnose him, but I realize now that he taught from a position of fear. His own shame tainted and tarnished his teaching, causing damage to his students. I’ve never typed this out before, and I’ve never spoken so boldly about this to the music community at large, but I know that I am not the only student he treated like this and I wonder if they harbor the same feelings that I do.

For years after leaving his studio, I did so much to prove to myself that I could do things. I could win auditions. I could perform. I could keep going. I was fine. I was over it. I was “healed.” I certainly was not too sensitive. But this nagging voice inside me was always reminding me of my shame. It would whisper, “You’ll never be able to play this. You’ll never be good enough to perform it, not like a real violinist,” and I would return to the shame and perfectionist cycle of continually working to prove myself. I was the most diligent technical exercise practicer, metronome user, and rule follower. But I was also a particular type of hard-work avoidant. I was the most diligent "don't express yourself" player, and in reality, that is freaking impossible…and really, what is the point?

This is about:

I’m not saying this book has made me a better violinist. I’m merely confessing to breathing a weird sigh of relief that I finally understand the feelings that surrounded my violin playing. My career. My profession. I'm guessing this must be similar to what it feels like to finally get a diagnosis after years of struggling. Like “oh my god, its not me. I’ve been trying so hard to fix a problem that is bigger than myself.”  

This is not a story of assault. There was no predatory sexual behavior. This is not a story for the #MeToo movement. This is the realization that shame played a role in shaping me as a musician. I can finally see that. In my musical training, there are long patterns of associating failure with shame, and that is incorrect. Failure is something to learn from, not something to rip apart the joy of why you wanted to make music in the first place. I know that this teacher is not solely responsible for these feelings. But I also know that a mentor who motivates with shame is not helping his students grow.

About one year ago, I got my musical mojo back. Some things became crystal clear. Projects I had to work on, avenues of interest that I needed to explore, places I needed to go, people I needed to collaborate with suddenly leapt into focus. My purpose as a teacher became obvious; The most important thing I can do for my students is to create a safe place in their lives to develop, engage, and explore. Something that I now realize, shockingly, I had ripped to shreds every week of my life for years.

I have big goals that I finally feel ready for and in order to move forward, I have to shed this straightjacket. I realize this now. This is just phase one of phase one of phase one of the work I need to do.

Dare to Lead: Brave Work. Tough Conversations. Whole Hearts.

By Brown, Brené

It has been about a week since I finished the book, and I am now listening to Dare to Lead. I’m trying to pull all the pieces apart and examine them in an attempt to heal the cracks. I’m finally ready to make peace with this and use it to guide me, like a "what not to do" list. I will probably be unpacking this for years, and sometimes on this blog, but it is necessary. Musical shame is something I don’t wish on anybody. It is like a cancer of your joy. It eats away at what is beautiful about making music and leaves you feeling less than. And there is simply no place in this world for that type of disease.  

I hope this resonates with you. I would love to know your story. Please share.

A Decade in Review

Wow, 10 years. It feels like it simultaneously flew by and limped by. There were periods of the last decade where time felt like it stood still, and months that flew by in the blink of an eye. The last 10 years were big for me. In 2010, I had my undergraduate degree and was freelancing in Minneapolis, playing mostly musical theater and performing and recording with bands. I had a part time job at Apple as the person everyone yelled at when they couldn’t figure out how they screwed up their iPhone. I started last decade feeling a little lost and unsatisfied, and finished the decade with more drive and purpose than I ever imagined I would possess.

10 years ago. My band WIVE performing at the 501 club in Minneapolis, about 1 week before I moved to Oklahoma (July, 2009).

Its funny how sometimes you feel like you have stalled. Like all of your friends (and social media acquaintances) are whizzing into the future adorned with success and you are just sitting around hoping you’ll get called for a little work, or that you’ll do something productive that day, or that your life even has meaning or purpose. Sometimes I feel like nothing is changing, that everything has stagnated and that I have achieved nothing. Occasionally, I get lost in these periods of life and forget to take stock on how far I’ve come. Taking time to reflect on the past decade gave me some much needed perspective on this journey called life. I laugh at some of the little “fails” that in hindsight are no big deal, or would have led me down a path I realize now that I do not want, but at the time felt life-shatteringly tragic. I’ve grown so much grit and resilience, perspective, drive and passion. I said goodbye to many toxic relationships, and hello to many wonderful people and opportunities. Can you relate to any of this? Do any of these feelings resonate with you?

Below, are a few of the highlights from the past 10 years of my life.

Places I lived:

Minneapolis, MN

Norman, OK

Tulsa, OK

Los Angeles, CA

(a total of 7 different addresses)

Degrees and Training completed:

Proof that I have a DMA

Masters of Music

Doctor of Musical Arts

Suzuki Training

Essentials of Performing Arts Medicine Certificate

Books read:

207+ I started keeping track in 2015 but I definitely read books before then. See my recent blog post about my recommended books from those years).

Races:

at the LA marathon in 2019.

2 marathons

6 ( I think?) half-marathons

at least 10 5Ks

at least 3 10Ks

1 sprint triathlon

The Hood to Coast relay race (2012)

1 dressage show

1 local hunter jumper show at Sonrise Stables in Oklahoma.

Jobs Held:

3 college teaching jobs

1 conservatory prep position

3 different Sistema-program positions

Orchestra positions won:

performing with the Tulsa Symphony in 2016.

5 successful professional auditions (and several unsuccessful auditions) + other freelance orchestra work

Other Work:

Applied for and denied from multiple college jobs and grant opportunities

Worked in a Cheese Shop (and learned a ton about fromage)

Was an Assistant Music Librarian at a professional orchestra

Sat on multiple orchestra and non-profit committees

Sad points:

RIP Papa Larson.

Lost both of my grandfathers

Lost our family dogs Chester and Suzy

Jeff’s father and step father passed away

Forced to upend a long-term musical relationship with a teacher who was inappropriate and borderline abusive.

Highlights (in no particular order):

Met Jeff and made a life together

Adopted Blanche

Started ActiveViolinist.com as a way to start musing on musicians health and violin stuff.

Created corpßonore - sound | body | wellness a podcast and publication for musicians health and wellness

Won the concerto competition twice.

I wrote a dissertation about violin and yoga (you can access it here)

Placed 3rd in the CICA International Concerto Competition.

Played at SXSW twice

with Me and My Arrow at the Pizza Luce Block Party in 2011.

Performed at the Pizza Luce Block party in Minneapolis with Me and My Arrow (6000+ people in attendance)

Traveled abroad to Nigeria, Egypt, Costa Rica, Mexico, England, Wales, Europe for 2 musical tours - 2010 with WIVE, and 2019 reunion shows with A Whisper in the Noise and Ostinato.

Saw some incredible live performances

Bows at the Cacti performance with Tulsa Ballet in 2017.

Discovered Iyengar Yoga

Met some of my closest friends

Started playing at the Oregon Coast Music Festival

Performed Cacti with the Tulsa Ballet

Had a Me Time Monday at the Philbrook Museum

Interviewed by Sidelines Magazine about violin and horse riding.

Wow! When you write it all down, or most of it at least, life really gets put in perspective. I’ve been rejected from so many things, but I’ve also had some incredible experiences. I’ve “lost” many opportunities but also “won” so many. Looking back and taking stock has lit a fresh fire for the future. If that’s what I did last decade, what can I do in the next ten years? I feel so much more strongly about what I want to accomplish in life now than I did then. I’m so excited for the next chapter to unfold.

When you look back on the last decade? What do you see? What patterns pop out for you? What are you most proud of?