One habit I’ve picked up since the boys were babies is wiping stuff on the back of my shorts.
I can’t single out the moment when I looked at the banana puree on my index finger and decided that grinding it into my khaki cargos was a lot easier than walking over to that kitchen towel hanging in front of the sink.
But I crossed the threshold, and now I’m an incorrigible wipe-things-on-my-butt kinda guy.
Every few days Melissa will ask, “What’s that on your shorts?”
No memory.
Just an orange streak of something that happened at second breakfast.
How did it come to this? —Presenting my person in public with a kaleidoscope of colors swiped in indiscriminate diagonals across my hiney–
Probably the same way that habit you’ve been rocking for a while instantiated itself into your neural pathways.
One day you tried a thing, and it kinda worked.
If it was singing, it got the sound to come out.
Interpersonal? It got the person to leave you alone?
Professional– It made the boss-like person think you had it together.
So then you hit repeat. And again.
Soon you were practicing this habit, and before you knew it you were sporting crusty green smears on your keister.
This is when we have to step back and take a look at what we’re actually practicing.
My students in the MFA Teaching Lab reminded me of an adage last Friday— practice doesn’t make perfect. Practice makes permanent.
Is that thing you do bringing joy and satisfaction into your life? Do things flow better when you do it?
Or does it have that really annoying quick fix feel? That bothersome but true gut grab that this isn’t sustainable.
How about your singing?
Is there a challenge or two that you could use a magic wand for?
Are there sounds you think are unmake-able for you that if you’re honest with yourself would feel really great to make?
Joyful connection and confident skill you know could be a thing if you just knew the way in?
I have a solution.
If you’re gonna be in or around NYC on Saturday, October 16, email me back here and type one of two things—
?“Dan, I wanna book a lesson time with you on that Saturday so I can get some tools to get my connection, confidence, and skills rolling.”
??“Dan, I wanna join that small class you’re teaching Oct 16 from 6-9pm on how I don’t have to forget about my vocal technique at all—in fact, I can make it my authentic storytelling superpower. Please hold my spot.”
I’ll email you back, and we’ll make a plan for what you’re gonna work on.
?Or come to a Red Sox game and have a lesson while you’re at it.
Hey, check out this sign across from Fenway Park—if those lightbulbs could talk, huh?
I love spotting beautiful things around Boston.
I hope you’ll notice those things you do this week (AKA our habits) and ask yourself, “Is this bringing satisfaction and joy?”
And give yourself a gentle listen for the answer.
If you’re asking about my nighttime cereal habit, then Yes! Yes it DOES bring satisfaction. AND joy.
And coffee. I mean, what is life, even, without coffee?
All right—I’ll ask me about my habits. You ask you about yours. Deal.
And email me here and tell me you wanna get some tools that’ll change the game for you in NYC on Saturday, Oct. 16. One-on-one or in a small, brave class 6-9pm.
And you’ll see what may or may not be staining the posterior of my pants.
And always remember—there’s ONE YOU—and folks need to hear the story only you can sing.
Love much,
Dan
ps I claim total schoolmate I-know-him pride on Daniel J. Watts. Did you see what he did last night at the Tonys?
You know the folks who make you step back and say “day-uuuuuum!”? That’s Daniel.
I hope you can find his performance when CBS makes it available, but in the meantime, check his TED Talk “To accomplish great things, you need to let the paint dry.”
