Let That Stuff Go
About three months ago I was sending in my resume for the first audition back from COVID, and getting my first call for a maskless, bell-cover-less gig that involved travel and meeting new people. I was thrilled! I thought, 'this is what I have been waiting for!' At the same time, I was beginning to pack up my apartment and envisioning my closest friends moving to start graduate schools, be closer to loved ones and start new chapters of their lives outside of Rochester. I had also just started working part time as a barista at a local coffee shop, which felt exciting but also like a culture shock of new and different people. I was doing intense exercise every day and practicing 2-3 hours a day.
I was really proud of how I was doing. I had my productivity lists, I was checking everything off and I was doing my morning and evening routines.
The gig I was preparing for was with the Athena Brass Band in Gettysburg, PA. We had one 8-hour rehearsal day and the concert the next day. I was so excited to get to play with wonderful women from all over the U.S. and get to meet new people. I had a great time at the gig and was completely exhausted afterwards.
Driving home from PA, my body completely gave out. I started to experience nerve shocks in my arms, my shoulders seized up, I started to experience stomach cramps and my mind was in a complete fog.
The strain on my body from a 8-hour rehearsal day and the social overload I experienced from meeting new people (which I love to do, but still a stimulus is a stimulus) was the straw that broke the camel's back. That camel is me...and my back hurt - literally.
I was starting a new job where I felt out of place, practicing 2-3 hours every day after intense exercise, not stretching, not taking time to rest, facing the truth that my closest friends were moving away, starting my first full year without going back to school - all in the midst of a pandemic where social engagements were overwhelming and strenuous.
Perhaps that does not sound like much, and maybe it isn't, but throughout all of that I was holding myself to a standard of perfection, trying to do everything to the absolute fullest. I convinced myself that everything had to be done at the highest level that what could have just been an exciting gig was also the final straw for my body/mind/spirit.
The next two-three weeks I could not hold my trombone at all. My muscles were seized and overworking and I was in a good deal of pain. I wondered how I was over exerting myself physically, not yet understanding how my mentality and anxiety played a roll in all of this. I understand that injuries are vast and varying, this is more about how my body keeps the score than how I worked through my injury.
Cue Karen Cubides.
I met with Karen and told her about my forearm/wrist/neck injury. She asked me "what can't you let go of?" and I froze. She suggested that this injury was my body responding to me over-gripping things in my life, both literally and figuratively. I did not know how to answer her question - I felt like I had no answer and too many to name all at once.
But I did some thinking, feeling, journaling and talking on this topic and some themes started to emerge for me.
I was convincing myself I needed to be perfect at everything I do coming out of the pandemic
I was over-gripping on my friends/chosen family in Rochester because I could not imagine this city/my life without them
I believed I had to hustle for worthiness (and show I was doing so) to gain respect
I cared a lot about what others thought of me (at times, more than what I thought of me)
It took a while for me to wrap my head around this injury because I had convinced myself I was doing well because I was checking off everything on my lists every day. But my body said enough was enough and forced me to slow down.
To combat this tension, I was doing Physical Therapy, stretching, gentle movement like walking or yoga and more reflecting than task-list-writing.
A couple of weeks later I traveled to Interlochen were I was the Trombone Teaching Fellow. Interlochen is my happy place - I attended one year of high school at the Academy and have been back in the summers every year since I graduated as a Admissions Intern and Trombone TA. This summer, I felt even more excited because I got to come back as the Fellow.
While I was at Interlochen my tension and injury went away with daily physical therapy work and mindfulness practice. I was able to hold up my horn, play in every lesson I taught, perform with the faculty brass ensemble, read chamber music with people outside of the work day etc... I thought I had finally kicked this thing! Those three weeks were bliss.
On my drive back to Rochester I began to feel the tension in my forearms and nerve zaps in my arms and neck. I thought back to what Karen asked me, "what can't you let go of?" and realized that being outside of Rochester gave me a lot of peace. There was emotional work waiting for me in Rochester - newness and uncertainty and unresolved musical trauma. I spent much of the drive home in silence, pondering what this could be about or letting myself be fully present.
Even though I know how to exercise, eat right and practice mindfulness, I went down a poor path with why I was doing the things I was doing. I exercised because I felt like I should, I worked/practiced for worthiness and I attempted to control/grip what was not in my control at all.
The lesson I take from all of this is letting things go and letting myself be content with the process, rather than over controlling an outcome brings me a great deal of peace. This does not have to be contingent on where I am or what I am doing. Trombone playing, living, teaching...anything at all.
As I practice mindfulness and physical therapy, my injury is getting better and I am able to do things like practice trombone, type this blog post, go to work and drive with little to no pain. It is still a work in progress, but the mental perspective I am gaining from this is something I hope never goes away - I am learning to trust myself even though I don't know what the outcome will be. This whole thing is a big lesson in holding things loosely and letting things go - a mindfulness practice all its own.
