This isn't school. You're a grownup now. Give yourself an A if you really want one.
You get out of it what you put into it — and you get to decide what that is going to look like.
There is no "I didn't finish last time," or "I can't keep up with everyone else." It's not a race. It's not a contest. There is no scorekeeper, and there's no score.
Read MoreIt's a very different scenario when you study an instrument as an adult. It's great that there's no one monitoring you and making you practice.
On the other hand, there's no one monitoring you and making you practice. So what will happen?
You’ll play when you feel like playing.
The "all or nothing" thinking that some of us carry with us from childhood is not helpful here. If you miss a day of practice, it's no big deal. Just get back into it the next day, or the day after. You don't have to prove anything to anybody.
Read More“I have to force myself to do it.”
Whenever I hear something like this, my ears perk up. We all have to do things we don’t want to do, so this should be kind of boring. But what’s fascinating to me is hearing about people who force themselves to do things that are completely optional.
They speak of forcing themselves to do a specific kind of exercise, eat a certain kind of food, or engage in a particular kind of work.
Read More“I’m sooooo full!” said the ten-year-old at the dinner table, groaning theatrically. A moment later, she perked up. “What’s for dessert?”
Obviously, the special dessert compartment in her stomach still had room. Been there!
I can relate to the child’s situation metaphorically as well as literally. Martha Beck, in her book Finding Your Own North Star, points out that we sometimes find ourselves feeling ill or sleepy when we’re doing something we don’t want to do, yet our symptoms of malaise and fatigue magically clear when we’re doing something that we find fun and engaging.
Read MoreI showed up to Jalil’s house as usual for our tutoring session.
Right away, I could see that he was in a dark place — for an eight-year-old. The cheeky smile I always see when I walk in was replaced by a scowl. No eye contact. “He’s in a mood,” his mom said.
I knew we had a lot to do — reading, science, writing. We made it to the room where our lessons take place, but once we got there, Jalil remained sullen, just rolling a ball around.
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