Why you hurt: what you didn’t get in your training

My story

As a girl growing up in the Suzuki Talent Education Association in Knoxville, Tennessee, I thrived in my music training. Performances, recitals, lessons, master classes—all of it was absolute joy. I excelled swiftly and by my teen years, it was clear my future was somewhere in the arts (I was also taking modern, ballet, jazz, mime and dance composition classes, special writing courses, various kinds of studio are and art history, and spent much of my free time composing and creating pieces for music, language, art and dance.) I narrowed my interests down to two areas: dance choreography/music composition and violin performance. Music School focused my time and energy on developing myself musically, but I still managed to keep up with some of my other pursuits, which, as Mr. Gingold observed, nourished my progress on the violin. I excelled best on the instrument if I remained true to my natural inclination to widen my scope.

My final year at IU, I won my first professional orchestra audition, and packed my bags. In the first rehearsal, I learned that the orchestra was going bankrupt. Management addressed the money issue by increasing performances and dramatically limiting rehearsals. Most weeks we were preparing up to four or five separate programs with only a day or two of rehearsal in which to pull it together. Performances were terrifying; half the first violin section would show up with the rest at home nursing an injury. Within months of this my mental state deteriorated. I was overpracticing. My self-esteem plummeted. I developed stage fright for the first time in my life. Soon, the physical challenges crept in. Carpal tunnel. Spinal pain. Extreme fatigue. Insomnia. Within less than a year, my 5’5” frame had dropped down to ninety pounds: I couldn’t digest solid food. It was years later I learned this was the result of my first “thyroid storm” kicked into high gear due to my stress overload. Stress and poor nutrition set into motion my body’s attack on itself—in this case the thyroid—triggering severe weight loss, fibromyalgia, anxiety, respiratory issues, and of course, pain. Nowhere in my training to become a violinist (or pianist, or dancer, or any other kind of artist) was I given ways to protect and maintain psychological and physical health. It just never came up. Performing was natural to me until is suddenly wasn’t, and I had no clue how to retrieve it. As my health spiraled out of control, my trust in my own mind, my instincts, and my ability to see solutions were drastically reduced. I remember wondering why I was so weak. Why was I such a failure? Was this it for me…at 22?

My story is not unique. Many performers and artists face blocks to their progress that shake them to their very core. But even in its well-documented existence we never receive in our education the skill set necessary by which to move through it and past it. Instead, we experience fear, insecurity, pain, discomfort or something else as a curse from which we will never truly escape. And, it is not a surprise, for the silence around such issues implies their absolute end to life as we know it. On top of whatever stops us, we soon are saddled with the anxiety, guilt, self-reproach, shame and insecurity associated with not being fully heard or seen. Exiled by our own kind, we are a sore reminder to those in our midst that this could well happen to them, and no one what’s to hear that message. 

What we need and aren’t getting

What is missing in our schooling is fundamental both to our well-being and to our art. Teachers don’t receive guidance on securing confidence or treating tendinitis any more than the performers do. If we are savvy, we may take mindfulness meditation classes or become knowledgeable about the body through practitioner work. But even here we hit a roadblock because 1) we aren’t taught how to integrate it within our way of being and 2) we aren’t given the whole story of how to heal. Mindset is fundamental to achieving a better way of being, improving function and easing use, but embodiment is the only way to fully integrate what you know into your habits of being and transform.

Here are some examples of this:

1. A violinist develops a fear of performing and refuses to play in her teacher’s recital. The teacher responds with astonishment; no one ever has expressed such a fear before, and advices the student simply to push through it. In preparing for this now fraught event, the violinist over-practices and develops pain in her left hand sending her out of the running for the performance. The teacher’s response, not knowing any other solution, is to stop the student’s lessons for four months with no instruction or guidance in how to practice and/or heal. What message does that send to the student? And yet, I’m sure this teacher did exactly what would have been done to her. It’s all she knew. Best not deal with it that make an egregious mistake.

2. In my own training, I sought out Alexander Technique to improve my overall use. I was having some tension and discomfort, and I knew my mindset was needing a tune-up. I was self-critical and unyielding in my expectations of myself. So, I began taking the classes in AT that were available to me online, and discovered early on certain “etudes” and practices brought up imagery in the form of unpleasant flashbacks. My moods began to swing, and I experienced a great deal of apprehension around my daily etudes. My instructor didn’t know how to respond to what was happening to me; she advised I just continue the practices until they passed. But they never did. They kept getting more and more upsetting. Not until I understood through my Somatics training that this was psychic, emotionally-charged material that was needing release did I know what I needed to do. And that, really, is quite simple. But it isn’t intuitive; somatic healing takes some know-how. As I later realized, the Alexander work—though very useful in some ways—had inadvertently stirred up things that were in the way of accessing my full potential. Once I knew how to release what was no longer of use to me and did so, I had the space to grow in the ways that I wished. 

Here is an example taken from my own experience how one shift can profoundly free up an entire system—knowing one approach to healing may or may not address the issue. Healing is integrative work enlisting every part of the mind-body organism.

For decades I have struggled with arthritis and, specifically, lack of mobility in my left hip. I recently had the opportunity to have the hip replaced, and I am still in the early stages of recovering from the surgery. But since my hip replacement, my neck is no longer stiff. My right shoulder—which has been frozen for over two decades—is suddenly free. I am moving differently in adjusting to this new hip and, I’m finding, the one hip had inhibited my ability to move with ease and flow for a very long time not just as a runner or in my walking gait, but as a violinist. This morning I pulled out the instrument for the first time in months. To my astonishment, no matter what I played, it was all there, in tempo, every note expressive. I am playing better than I ever have without doing a thing—except having a new hip. Yes, my mindset was good and my approach slow, but so had it been before the surgery. It is the shift in balance and structure that realigned my entire body to its natural and rightful place. Different muscles, tendons and ligaments are being called to use in slightly new ways, but the innate ease of it is already there. This is an example of architectural change manifesting a realignment of the entire system. It’s affect on me isn’t just physical, either. It allows me a joy and trust in myself I haven’t experienced in a very long time. 

Embodiment begets Transformation

This brings me to the process I use and teach the artists with whom I support. In addressing the whole system—whether it is for preventative measures or treatment—we must listen to the whole system. This includes thoughts, imagination, imagery, feelings, emotions, sensations, and the language of the body, such as breath, movement, gesture and posture. In preventing or healing issues within our minds, hearts and bodies we must consider each component. Neural information is bi-directional; stimuli may be within us or outside of us. To limit yourself to just your conscious thoughts addresses but just a mere slice of what drives you. Opening up to unconscious impulses or behaviors holding sway reveals the truth of what or who is driving the bus. It is this truth we must allow in order to heal, and the surest most direct route to meeting that truth is through the body—sensations, movements and posture. Our words may say one thing, but the truth reveals itself in action. 

Awareness = Choice

Such a process requires awareness before change can happen. If we become aware of ourselves in a certain way—a behavior, belief or other way of being—we have the power and choice to change it. Change takes awareness into what I call different levels of integration. Our deepening understanding of ourselves is supported by the allowance of this truth to be seen. Rather, we remove the layers of defense and protection to lovingly see what’s there, to investigate it, and to choose whether or not it serves us well. You can apply this to anything that you wish to improve, change, or transform: anxiety, perfectionism, low self-worth, grief, anger to ease, confidence and balanced regulation. The approach and practice may differ person-to-person and issue-to-issue, but the foundation of inquiry always begins with pulling back the layers of protection around the true Self to observe, allow, explore and nurture. The ways “in” are through our thoughts, imagination, feelings, emotions, sensations, and movements. 

The Mindset-Approach-Practice process

It is within the body we learn the truth of our being and the ways toward improving it. For musicians, the process—once an issue is identified, whether that be psycho-emotional, physical or expressive— shifts the perceptions and perspectives that introduce the possibilities that lay before you. Healing or improving, the process is one of growth. To acquire new more supportive ways of being can be  experienced two ways. These are through the expansion of sensory awareness—such as using the visual, imaginary, aural and kinesthetic senses toward strengthening memory, learning more deeply, and stretching knowledge—and through cognitive flexibility. How to implement sensory and cognitive information effectively depends on the person and the issue, but it merges mindset, sensorial and somatic awareness (approach) and playful resilience (practice) in the given moment to create a level of mastery and artistry that is not only accessible, but can be sustained. This ability is within each of us already; it is in the reaching for this resource we often get stuck. It is not something that is outside of you—something to get or take on—but is inside of you as you are right now. Once you know how to tap into it and listen, you have available to you something that not only is a beautiful resource that serves your being and your artistry, but you learn how to nurture its growth.

You are able to choose who you want to be.