Zen and the Art of Rationalization

2003-11-16 - 10:55 p.m.

I’ve been doing a lot of the fear and self-loathing thing here lately. I’ve got more existential angst than you can shake a stick at and I don’t really know what to do with it. Mostly I’m playing the “what if” game. I’m sure you know it, so I won’t bother to explain the rules. However, my problem with it is one of time and rationalization. Nothing I want to do is anything that I could not still do, if I’d just let myself.

I had the opportunity to watch two masters of my instrument perform last year. Pianist or not, if you ever get the chance to go see either Cyrus Chestnut or Herbie Hancock perform, GO! While watching them I noticed they shared a habit which I’ve come to imagine is peculiar to all masters of improvisation. In the process of constructing these beautifully elaborate improvised melodies, they would set up the expectation of a particular note or phrase and then stop themselves. They would pause for only a fraction of a second, then smile and nod as they then resumed their playing. The point is this: they both realize that hesitation is not a flaw or weakness.

Hesitation is simply the realization of a more perfect moment.

When I play and stumble or pause, my head explodes in fear and confusion. The result of this is that I stop playing all together. It is no different when I don’t write that E-mail I’ve been meaning to send, or am hesitant in returning a phone call, or don’t take a class one semester, or decide not to major in music. “The opportunity is passed,” I think and then am paralyzed.

It doesn’t have to be that way, in playing or in life.

We improvise every moment of every day. Planning is irrelevant because life happens in the moment, not on the to-do list or in the cozy confines of our rationalizations. I simply must learn that when I stumble I must smile, nod, and keep playing.

Vaya con Dios.