3/30/12

Go With It

My piano teacher used to talk over my playing, calling out for me to relax my shoulders. I bristled at the words, as if she were a backseat driver, but when I did relax my shoulders and took a deep breath I found that my fingers did not shake or skip so much.

Same with writing. I can't try too hard at it when I write a first draft, or else I freeze up before the blank screen, or come off sounding artificial and arrogant. Natalie Goldberg, author of Writing Down the Bones, incorporates Zen into her own writing practice. She seems to have something there. Writing should be a clearing of the mind, a suspension of self-criticism. That comes later, in editing.

Alan Watts, a Western rationalist who wrote about Eastern philosophy for Westerners in the 60s, talks about Zen as living in a universe full of water, and learning to swim in it rather than thrashing to keep your head above it. Don't fight so hard. Relax and your body will float.

I try to keep this in mind. I find that, in most areas, trying really hard makes things worse:

Trying to balance too much at once and not cutting myself a break makes me bitter on the subway and then vindictive with more restful folk. Then I get self-righteous about how productive I'm being-- but if my goal is to contribute to society and I'm being a snot to my housemates, it undermines my whole reason for working so hard.

Just like in college: cutting off the homework at 2 am and going to sleep always treated me infinitely better than staying up later.

Or, if I'm pursuing someone, the amount that I dress up for him actually decreases the more I like him. Not only do I not want to look like I'm trying hard, but I actually don't want it to be a trying project. Jeans and well arranged, clean hair is fine. It's the ones I don't really like, or want something ulterior out of, that I put on high heels and makeup for.

I'm not saying be lazy, or don't work. In fact, I find it to be very hard work to not try, to not force, to stay cool under pressure and stress. (For instance, I am terrible at mario kart because I'm too forceful with the controller. I jam the joystick, trying in earnest to win, and just end up falling off a lot of cliffs.)

I'm saying instead that letting go of some scruples seems to allow me to attain greater, less tangible successes.

I envision this discipline as being something like balancing something on your head while walking. Or eating something covered in powdered sugar without getting a speck on your shirt. Or cupping a small animal in your hand. Be delicate, don't make sudden movements, and don't carry on with your business- let your business carry on, and go with it.  

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