Hi friends,

Celestialflute here. As I have completed my second season of 100 Days of Practice, I cannot help but reflect on the various aspects of my professional and personal goals and endeavors this season has illuminated. Additionally, this season was drastically different than season one, beginning in the late first semester of 2017 and ending in the spring of 2018. Although retrospectively, I can see my growth from season one, I am left perplexed about what exactly I accomplished after season two.

One aspect I noticed about this season is that my videos are not focused on perfectionism but instead show some of my nitty-gritty practice sessions and share educational tips and tidbits that I have found helpful in my pursuit of artistry. Recording for 100 Days is more stressful than it seems, and not because of the dedication to 100 days, but for the fact showing an excellent practice video with trial and error, playing around with colors and phrasing, polishing, variations on articulation, etc., cannot be contained within the 90 seconds video reel that Instagram prefers users to create. Hence, the algorithm did not favor my videos, many far beyond the minute range, and I believe one is around the seven-minute mark. Admittedly, I took it personally, thinking, “Wait! This information is intended to help musicians! Why won’t the algorithm work? LOL, Or maybe what I am offering is not useful. No one cares…grab a book and get into bed with your cats….Try again tomorrow…namaste.”

So, for me, 100 Days of Practice this year is like writing 100 consecutive journal entries. Hilary Hahn stated exquisitely that the blurbs under her video posts take a lot of time from the day and can be quite exhausting. I share the same sentiment and found that when I was working through the first season challenge, I was wasting precious practice time trying to articulate in the text how I was learning and growing through practicing the flute, videography, and writing; therefore, this season I created shorter post blurbs.

What was my overall plan? Well, it shifted depending on my practice time availability, the performances and teaching on the upcoming docket, my work schedule, and my mental and physical health; I was and am still in survival mode, so perhaps my vision is skewed.

What I did find illuminating and clarifying is my drive to keep going when I have lost hope. I’ll be honest, friends; I occasionally, sometimes often, question whether I deserve to be a part of the flute community. Yes, we are our worst critics, but nonetheless, the imposter syndrome is real.

Let me touch on my imposter syndrome for a moment. My imposter syndrome is not one of whether or not I have the talent to win a job performing teaching or both, but of having a place at the table. I am an openly gay non-binary man (he/they) with Black American, African, and Indigenous American lineage; the expectations of male masculinity are rigid, particularly in the Black community. I define it as toxic hypermasculinity. If a Black boy doesn’t exude the bravura that is common practice for confident, cisgender straight Black men, it is not foreign to find themselves disconnected from the family for walking away from “God’s Will.” This abandonment causes those in the Black Queer Community to shrink themselves to avoid further rejection.

It takes a rebirth of the soul for the Black Queer Person to find in themselves their innocence of childhood; for some, the rebirth never occurs, as the shackles of judgment often outweigh future uncertainty, even if it is healing.

When I am in a healthy mindset, I am able to separate others’ opinions of me from my voice and personal critique. Many are taught that how we speak and think becomes who we are in essence. When I feel despair or broken, those invasive memories grab a chair and park themselves into my conscience. “Pass the popcorn...” They ask me, “Can you really still play challenging flute pieces, etudes, scales, thirds, fourths, fifths, etc.? Are you still relevant if you are not providing free sheet music, recordings, lessons, and instruments to all flutists?” Practicing will be a burden if I do not shake myself to my senses!

I might talk about how free education, although imperative, can cause many educators to lose their jobs, not because they can not still teach circles around free information, but the fact that many musicians believe that an online tutorial or reading a few articles and attending a flute event for example makes them exempt from the deep and difficult work it takes to excel any craft. And depending on their goals, it actually might be true. The wealthiest flutist in the world today trills the flute, sings, and dances her way right to the bank. “Go on gurl, with ya bad self.” Pardon the Ebonics…Or maybe not. 😉

(Before I digress too far, be on the lookout for my next blog posts about free education, and the next, which I have titled “The Lizzo Effect.”)

I have held the burden of imposter syndrome for at least a quarter of the Season 2 100 Days of Practice challenge. Becoming ill and working so many hours that 40 a week would seem like I had booked a vacation, job rejections, and dating rejections. I rejected myself for my body, voice, and speaking, which for me is an omen-like gnome, prodding me with a stealth-like cunning.

On some of those tough days, I wiped the tears of not-enoughness from my eyes, recorded what I needed to continue the challenge, and after, cried yet again.

Why?

What’s the point of excellence if it does not get you a job you are qualified for? And then one can ask, well, was I indeed that qualified, or did something internal, like doubt, come across in the interview or audition or lecture, or, perhaps, was it hubris dressed in a cloak of confidence because I knew that confidence was not enough to win?

You and others might have heard that we should walk into an interview or audition as though we already have the job. Sure! That can help, but if you either lose or do not live up to what your maximum excellence has been preparing, a major spiral of depression is waiting at the exit door. And then the voices circling begin to clash, “You are great!” “You are magnificent!” “You know that first note will sound like shit, right?… *Crack* ”Told you!” “Do you even remember this passage coming up? What are these notes that suddenly feel unfamiliar,” as the audience’s eyes of expectations seek greatness? Or is it that my personal perception, integrity, and hegemony are what they require of me to sit and remain seated in the audience? “Just be yourself…even though you are too intense for some… or many…or all?” “Shh! Breathe into the anxiety and exhale the frustration and gloom…” “There, that is better.”

Before becoming aware of the storm of thoughts circling about like a mental tornado, the focus is completely broken, the confidence is shattered, and the blood in the body has turned cold, with knees knocking and the body shivering.

“STOP!”

“Your worth and excellence were predetermined before birth, and no one can remove you from the blessings meant for you!”

“But…”

“No Buts, just embrace your perfectly imperfect imperfections executed with perfection…” “Okay.”

The spiral may continue.

There is an answer, though, that I have found helpful in all things music and life, and of course, for 100 Days of Practice. Perhaps you heard me discuss it with flutist and coach Chelsea Tanner on her podcast Align Your Mind, where we discuss intrusive thoughts as flutists.

In our podcast episode “Being a Multifaceted Musician with Brice Smith,” I discussed how to rid myself of intrusive thoughts. When I practice or focus on any medium, I inevitably begin daydreaming or becoming distracted, as my mind loves to think with lightning-fast precision, just in multiple directions. I write these pesky intrusive thoughts in a notebook placed next to me.

I call intrusive thoughts “Popcorn Thoughts!” 🍿 (Can I claim copyright to that? One can hope…)

I came up with this name because of my obsession with popcorn, but also how thoughts appear one by one until there is a kerfuffle of thoughts. I write down every intrusive thought in a notebook.

For example, if I am unsure I turned off the stove, unplugged the iron, or ordered some flute tools (which I now realize I have not done), I will quickly write that thought down on paper. Why not just let the paper hold all of the thoughts you don’t want clouding your mind? It’s been a lifesaver for me, and I STILL must make an effort to accomplish it!

If I have yet to speak effectively about this plight, I hope that I will succeed in doing so in the coming blog entries.

So, back to 100 Days of Practice. I felt that my videos were consumed with thoughts on tone, articulation, vibrato, phrasing, and teaching. I expected things as a practicing musician; however, I cannot tell you if I was improving. I did not stop until I felt the execution would suffice. Still, my mind questions: Is that a legitimate improvement, or is there the fortitude to successfully execute the day of practice so that I can begin “regular practicing” or working on some more pertinent materials for my future performance obligations? Agh, there my mind goes again…Popcorn Thoughts: scribble scribble.

Long story short, yes, 100 Days of Practice was helpful for me, but seemingly in ways more profound than improving my flute playing!

I will speak in more depth soon, but I hope my general overview of my second season of 100 Days of Practice was at least moderately amusing.

Until next time,

-celestialflute 🔮🪈

(This blog entry is subject to future edits!)