Practice Makes Permanent
Whether or not you are part of a faith tradition, you are surely aware it is the holiday season. Maybe, like me, you ran into a Michael’s store the day before Halloween to grab something and stopped short as you cocked your head and thought, “What? Already? Christmas music?” By now, it permeates background spaces everywhere just in case we forget that the holiday of consumer consumption is upon us.
If, like me, you are familiar with Christian spirituality you may also be aware that in the background lies another season, Advent. The shortest explanation of this time is that it’s all about waiting.Waiting for the light in the midst of darkness. It’s a season to orient us towards the future by inviting us to pay attention to our practices in the present.
Back in the late 1980s I was studying classical voice. My undergrad was at a conservatory of music where I learned some wisdom that extends well beyond vocal training. In the midst of a coaching session, as I was trying to manipulate various body parts to create the sound I wanted to hear, instead of the sound my body was designed to share (which was much better, by the way), my voice coach said, “Remember, practice makes permanent!”
“You mean, practice makes perfect.” I countered.
“No, it doesn’t “ he corrected, “not if you are practicing wrong. Your practices become permanent, regardless of whether or not they guide you towards perfection.”
This, my friend, is so very true. We have practices that become habits. And we listen to self-talk all day long that strengthens them.
Singing is a creative act. A unique offering and gift. You, like me, also have creative offerings and gifts to share with the world. Maybe you, like me, get scared when you’re ready to share them. Scared that they aren’t yet perfect, or even good enough, to see the light of day.
Maybe you, like me, would sometimes rather just keep it inside, in the dark, waiting until there is certainty around the outcome. But that certainty, is a problem. I was certain I could manipulate my body into generating the sound I wanted to hear. Instead of trusting new and supportive practices that would allow me to share my voice in ways that might surprise! The supportive practices because they were new, didn’t feel secure. That’s why I was working with a coach. The controlling practices felt familiar, they were easy to fall back on.
Practicing self-compassion, when we’re used to overdoing, can feel strange, even wrong. If we have an habitual inner critic, she will definitely try and dissuade us from the practice. But which practice do we want to make permanent?
Practicing curiosity over judgment can feel false, even fake, when it’s a new habit. “Huh?” I might say to myself when I notice I’m incessantly judging the contents of someone’s home at a party, “I wonder why I’m on an internal tirade right now? I wonder what that’s about it?”
I have to tell you, that one, for me, moving from judgement to curiosity was HUGE. Constant criticism was a HUGE part of my life for a long time, it was a practice I was taught and became well-trained in. It’s one reason why trusting I could sing was so hard. I spent so much of my time judging it.
So in this sentimental and stressful season, what practices support you now and in the future? The person you are becoming? The person who examines their practices and habits to see which ones help integrate the whole of who we are so we can respond, and not react, to situations in our lives. There is always a season of waiting available to us, as we practice those things we long to make permanent.
