Starting to Understand
Back in January, I picked START as my keyword for this year.
I chose it because I hate starting starting can be challenging for me and I had some projects I really wanted to start (and finish) this year.
(The universe confirmed my keyword choice by showing up with the funds for me to start a vocal improv project.)
…
Now, I am a solid finisher — I love crossing things off lists and chipping away until it’s all done.
But starting? Starting always feels trickier.
I think it’s because I don’t know what I’m doing. *rueful grin*
By the time a project is nearing completion, I can see what needs to happen and in what order. When I’m starting out, the to-do items seem tangled up like a big knotted mess of yarn and I can’t figure out where to begin pulling.
…
What is interesting is that this starting struggle doesn’t show up when I’m spontaneously singing.
When I begin an improvisation, I only worry about starting. I don’t get tangled up in what comes next because I honestly have no idea what that might be. I just find my way to a workable idea and hang on.
And then at some point I’m not starting anymore; I’m in the middle, working my way towards the finish (ah … much better).
…
See, I’m a think-y gal and it can get me into trouble, particularly at the beginning of new things.
I hem. I haw. I procrastinate and work in circles.
While improvising has strengthened my intuition and made me more comfortable trusting my instincts, I prefer to understand how and why things work.
I enjoy considering, pondering, cogitating, etc.
(I think, therefore I am.)
I like to plan.
Plan the work and work the plan. In that order.
And, to me, it seems that in order to do something, I should understand what that something is first.
…
This showed up when I was learning to sing in contemporary styles.
I wanted to understand how I should be attempting something. Which register? What vocal placement? How high should I lift my palate and where should my tongue be?
Well, there was no single answer and no answer that was right in all styles.
That’s because singing is an experiential process. You understand what you are doing AFTER a good long while of trying things out and discovering what works and what doesn’t.
It is also an individual experience, because every singer — and his/her vocal anatomy — is unique. Even the best teacher can’t tell you how things will feel and sound in your body. (You’re the only one in there after all. *smile*).
…
So.
Sometimes I won’t get to understand first. (*sigh*)
I will have to wade in, muck it up in order to figure it out.
I will have to make mistakes and do things over.
After all, it is right there in the etymology of the word – “under” “stand.” As in one thing stands under another. As in what happens next is standing on what you figure out now/first.
I might not like it, but I’ll keep starting to understand.
