Reach first, then build the staircase

Yesterday, I was walking in an athletic park with a soccer field, when I saw this giant tire along the track.

Well, I'm an on-and-off calisthenics enthusiast.  I was actually here to use the pull-up bars shown in the distance.  I've seen the videos of athletes or crossfit trainers flipping these tires for exercise, and I always wondered, "What's the big deal?", so I tried it.   For the record, I tried 4 times...

I couldn't lift it.

I couldn't even budge it.

I could barely get it to wiggle.

To think something would be easy only to find that it isn't even something I can come close to doing is, well, humiliating.  There are times in the past where I would respond in anger, criticizing my shortcomings and maybe even calling myself a failure.  Another common response might be for me to go pick an exercise that I can do well just to show myself I'm still good at something, and then keep doing it.

However, after years of teaching and making myself be mindful of how practice works, and how progress is made, I've come up with what I think is the healthiest response for anyone aspiring to be better.

"I can't do it now.  I MIGHT not be able to ever do it.  However, I can build a staircase to get from here to there, and see how far I get."

If you are on the ground floor and you look up at even the next floor when it's an open floor-to-ceiling section where you can see all the floors, imagine that there's no stairs, no elevator, no escalator, and you have no rope or anything to help you climb upward.  Trying to get to the next level seems insurmountable.  A staircase makes it possible, even if it's a really long staircase.  Even if you're out of shape, you can still take one step at a time at your own pace, and rest as needed.

What is the staircase? 

The staircase can be a lot of things.  It's a list of the easier tasks that can progress to harder ones.  My step 1 was to go to YouTube and see a tutorial in the technique of how to stand, how to position yourself, how to use your leg during the motion...and I wasn't doing any of that.  My next step might be to find a much smaller tire to get used to the technique.  I might also want to practice more on squatting and dead lifts to improve the two movements involved in lifting a tire.

In music, your destination might be playing your music much faster than you can.  You want to play it with the metronome on 150, but you can barely do 60.  The metronome becomes a staircase.  Step 1 is 60.  Step 2 is 65.  Step 3 is 70.  Step 4 is 75, and so on.  It's not the only way to speed up a piece, but it's a reliable way to make some measured progress.

Another goal might be playing a piece of music that is way too difficult for you.  There's a canyon between Chopin's Prelude No. 4 and his Prelude No. 8.

 

If you can play the first (#4), but are nowhere near the 2nd (#8), then you should try #6, then #20, then #2, then basically all of the others with the possible exception of #16 in some order, and then you're ready for #8,  You might have to start very, very slowly, or hands separately, but either way...you are in the midst of your staircase.

And now for the final point that might be a bit painful...

You might not make it.

I might not flip that tire.  You might get about 7 preludes learned, and then hit a plateau.  You might decide some day...maybe you could learn it a long time from now, but you just don't find the time it takes to succeed worth it.  And that's okay.  It's actually okay to reach for something, and not make it.

The important thing is to REACH.  Your staircase has no purpose until you have a target.  That staircase may be too long for you to get to the end.  But you need to move ahead.  There are certain pieces I have played in my life (Beethoven's Pathetique Sonata, Chopin's Revolutionary Etude, Tchaikovsky's 1st Concerto, Liszt's Concert Etude No. 3) that were milestones for me.  They represented, at the time I learned them, something I didn't think I could have done before.  They also represented something I could barely play slowly when I started.  Two of those pieces took me the better part of a year.  My current piece like that is the Piano Sonata from Samuel Barber.

Every piece I've learned like the ones mentioned above have left me better prepared for a whole new level of music.  I'm now accompanying voice lessons on a regular basis for the first time since college, and finding myself well-equipped for every piece I've had to sightread.  I'm thankful for taking the time in the summer of 1996 to play through (not practice, but just sightread) the entire 48 compositions of Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier books 1 and 2.  I'm thankful for the time I took since May through late August to play through the entire 19 Sonatas and 3 Fantasias of Mozart.  All of that has made me ready to sightread music for voice lessons.  I'm thankful for every piece I've played that made me question my ability at first.  I'm not ready for the Barber Sonata to sound anything like it's supposed to be, but I'm reaching for it, and building the staircase.

If you at least reach high, but don't make it... you'll still almost certainly be better off than you were before!