Section One | Pulling it All Together
All that we are, other than the body, is invisible. - Maurice Nicoll
All that we are, other than the body, is invisible. - Maurice Nicoll
That ‘deer in the headlights’ moment when we realize how much there is to know can come as a bit of a shock. Yet this mortal perspective, humbling and illuminating, presents us with the choice to either remain in the safety of where we are or bravely set out in pursuit of the unknown.
Such a realization - a glimpse of the limitlessness of the instrument - can either motivate or paralyze us. Some may resign their potential to mediocrity or even give up on music altogether. Some may choose to avoid serious practice and simply be content with playing music. Others will commit to pursue their limitless potential on the instrument with vigor, bravery and personal discipline.
Perhaps we are among the lucky few who are gifted to work because there is nothing else we would rather do. We may be intrinsically motivated by an unrelenting internal drive arising out of curiosity, the desire to learn and grow, and the internal joy that comes from working simply for the love of doing so. Some of us may be externally motivated to practice, driven by a range of external benefits such as achieving particular outcomes or rewards: fame, recognition, money, status, etc. (Deci et al., 1991)
Yet within the complex stratum of what compels each of us to practice - whether we are gifted with a natural desire to work at what we love or compelled by external ambitions - we still must face the complex relationship between ourselves, the music and the instrument.
At its most fundamental level, in the making of creative improvisational music we draw from our unique experience, empathy and intuition. Playing music may appear to be born entirely from technical skill and chops, but consider the following:
With so much that came before us, it can be difficult to know what to practice. Even if we clarify the ‘what’ of practice, the ‘how’ consistently goes unattended to. ‘How to practice’ is seldom considered or discussed. It is a question that is not only not answered, it is hardly ever even asked. Many want to find the ‘best’ and most effective exercises, techniques and gear, but little if any importance is placed on the invisible aspects: the bodily and intellectual senses and the executive function which guides and processes the information they gather.
Practice is often perceived as disengaged and mysterious; we may feel it is tedious, dull and boring, even painful. We might avoid it as much as possible, perhaps do it un-consciously, or go into it with trepidation and angst. For some, a fear of failure may keep us from even trying. It need not be this way. Let’s look at some of the reasons why we might wish to practice. Understanding what we bring to music-making helps clarify the areas to which we devote our energy and attention in practice.
Why practice
Practice is not an end, it is a means. It is the means by which we make it easier to connect with our creative musicianship. The primary focus of proper practice is to develop the skills for creative music-making: the complete integration of music and body, access to the conscious and un-conscious mind, the free flow of our energy and to connect experience and intuition in the here and now. These intangible skills, fueled by experience, are supported by the full range of our sensibilities. This integration should be a major part of our practice. In other words, we must bring together all that we are for the potential of being all we can be.
Making music is the primary context and reason for where and why we ought to direct our energy during practice. Practice should maintain a close connection with the state of being we use to make music. Even without the goals of performance, playing drums and practicing can also stand on its own, apart from the music-making context. For many, the simple, meditative act of working is a joy that, beyond all else, fulfills a deep personal need for clarity, connection, competence and self-determination.
In understanding practice, it is helpful to understand just what is going on when we make music. As we saw in Chapter 1, the musical state is one in which cognition is released from the mundane of parts, and the mechanics of perfection are detached from self-consciousness. We use our mental, physical and emotional energy to receive, give meaning to and harmonize the musical energies of the moment. The musical state is one in which the mental capacities we develop during practice are redirected and neurons in the brain are synchronized in the being-state of focused creativity.
Musicianship is part of the cultivation of our consciousness and arises from the internal development of our perceptive capacities. It is dependent upon our sensibilities and our aptitude for discernment. Making creative music is a creative cognitive activity, existing within, or in spite of, the limitations of our own cognitive capacity. Consequently, improving the quality of our music-related capacities, specifically, improving the quality of our sensibilities, vastly increases our potential for creative music-making.
Music-making requires a highly sensitive state of attentiveness. Because of this, practice ought to make intensive use of attention. Attention does not limit creative possibility, it increases its potential. Our capacity for attention can be broad in scope, as in making the relevant conceptual and contextual connections. Or it may be highly focused, directed toward specific details, or both.
The multiplicity of focus and awareness necessary in playing the drumset creates the space for the emergence of ideas that are both convergent and divergent in nature. Directing attention through the processing of input via all our available senses not only improves technical skill, it increases our ‘head-room’. Head-room is the capacity and quality of our sensibilities for music-making.
Cognitive capacity can be defined as how much we can hold ‘in mind’ at any one moment (Miller & Buschman, 2015). It serves as a field, a space for the interplay and creative re-assemblage of broad and highly detailed information relating to tasks at hand. On this mental sketchpad, complex information is drawn from the bodily and intellectual senses. These resources combine in real time with experience, facility, and cultural awareness. They combine with our intuitive musical language and empathic perspectives to support, respond, and collaborate in the creation of music. The level of receptivity to and our internal collaboration with all these sources are what give shape to our musical sensibility and instinct.
Gains made from practice will arise from wherever we focus our mental energy, whereas work done without mental focus simply reinforces unconscious behavior. Music is a highly conscious act which requires practice that matches the same levels of awareness. Practice at this level sharpens and tunes our sense faculties and creates a path for our sound. Our sound exemplifies our touch, and our touch represents the degree of hearing and attentiveness we have in the moment.
Efforts focused solely on the technical will improve technical aspects, yet fail to make the desired creative musical connections. In addition, mindless repetition while mentally disengaged from the work only increases the level of our disengagement.
Deliberate attention to tone, touch, timing, and phrasing, effort devoted to fluidity, relaxation and control, striving for clarity and conversing, will deliver gains in these areas. Our sound improves dramatically through deep attentiveness to melodic phrasing, call and response, emotional expression, and to the constant deepening of our level of hearing. All these result in what we call touch.
Practicing with deliberate attention takes a great deal more internal effort than simply ripping exercises from a book. We must make use of the same presence of mind that we use in music-making.
To improve, we must practice in a way that is equivalent to the level of musical engagement we envision. In the previous chapter we saw that technical ability and chops are a small part of all that we use in a creative context. Here we will examine how, with the right kind of practice, we increase our skill in all areas, namely the quality of our cognition, of our sensibilities, our conceptual understanding and our perceptive abilities.
We may define the reasons for practice in our own way, but what all of us really want is to play as well as we can. With over 100 years of American music as our guide, deep attentive listening is the single best way to absorb the musical instincts we drummers need. Once steeped in the melodic, harmonic and rhythmic turns, feels, tones and attitudes of the music, a good player expresses these essentials with exceptional clarity or creates contrasts of form with bracing relevance to the broader cultural milieu.
When musical ideas are delivered clearly, it could be said that we have good technique. Music communicates best when ideas are shared in a way that can be clearly understood or felt. In our case, it is my opinion that what we want is valid, relatable content delivered clearly while technique remains unseen. Musical ideas played with clarity lift the music above the players, beyond any awareness of technique. In this way the relatable content is the music, not the method of delivery. We speak relatable truths while technique remains hidden.
Technique, is but one part of what we use to play creative music on the drumset. Technique is the visible aspect of drumming. Technique is the easiest of them all to teach. They are the tools, they are not the music. Music is so much more. What we want is to increase our capacity across all areas, most of which are internal and invisible, then bring them all together in practice as well as in performance.
While this chapter focuses on practice, it must be remembered that our primary teacher is the music. It is the music which permeates the physical body, seeps into the emotions and the intellect, and animates the spirit. In turn, the spirit animates the music. Getting in the zone for real creativity in music means to bring together all the various parts of ourselves for the musical / spiritual exchange to occur.
A personal connection
The drumset epitomizes multiplicity and diversity (see forthcoming Chapter on Collective Purpose). It is inherently collaborative on multiple levels, from its input to its output and everything in between. Its coalescing nature, arising from cultural diversity, gives it the unique ability to speak the world’s rhythmic languages, and do so in modern, relatable terms. Drumming’s nature as a social event places us at the heart of the culture.
The drumset plays an important role in personal and cultural development. This is due to both the collaborative nature of the instrument and the fact that it requires the unification of all that we are to play. Both of these factors are baked in to the instrument.
Due to its collective nature, the instrument presents us with the potential for a complete physical, mental, emotional, experiential and spiritual connection. This total interface is the gateway for expanding our connectedness on all levels. A crucible for personal alchemy, the drumset provides a context and laboratory for making connections and sensing truth; it creates a discipline for learning and growth, for traversing worlds of sound, culture, history, science and art. It holds potential for the integration of a profound personal practice.
For me, practice is continuous, meaningful work. It is something I do because it gives me great pleasure. What I practice may be defined by clear and present ideas that I wish to express more clearly or perhaps modify for a certain feel. At all times the door is open to creativity, to spontaneity, and to the connective spark of possibility.
Playing drums is something I wish to do above all else. In the process of improving my abilities on the drums, the understanding I gain helps me to find ways to expand my capacities and sensibilities overall. Practice is my active participation in the act of improving.
The sound and feel I get is not simply the sound of my drums and cymbals, but rather is a direct result of how I am playing them right now. My tone is a direct reflection of who I am at that very moment. Specifically, it reflects my level of hearing. The ability to blend or contrast, the clarity of my sounds and rhythms, even my humanness and my own perceived limitations - all that is within me is on display.
The personal discipline that I cultivate through proper practice continually sharpens and expands my sensibilities. This has brought clarity to my life and to my music.
The work is a continuous process of clarifying, of taking multiple perspectives to better understand something that I think might hold truth. Details become finer and finer while my mental space increases. I work to observe and to imagine, asking, “what makes this work?” or “why isn’t this working?” Or, “what if I did this instead?”
By identifying and isolating a particular idea as a point of reference, I then take it apart and practice it as it is to make it an unconscious and accessible part of my vocabulary. Next I work on ways that the pattern or idea might be altered. This can be done in any number of ways, such as adding or removing notes, adding or removing accents and their placement, or changing the sticking. Other ways to alter and expand the idea include changing the feel, changing the phrasing, or by how the idea might be voiced on the instrument. And finally, the altered idea is inserted into a musical framework in a way that is seamless and propulsive. In short, I recognize, assimilate, modify and integrate.
I may work to make the complicated simple, or to find the complex within the simple. Mistakes become opportunities. In the process of improving, of fixing, of making changes and trying new approaches, I increase my capacity for improvisation, explore divergent ideas and make intelligent choices.
In addition, my work teaches me understanding, patience, acceptance, and determination. When possible, I change the things I cannot accept. I cultivate an acceptance of the nature of things and accept that which cannot be known, possessed, understood or quantified. My health and well-being are balanced by allowing for the suchness of life, seeing beyond the visible, and working intensely in the moment to improve myself.
More importantly, practice reminds me to keep my heart open to give and receive. I practice so I can make the music feel good, make others feel good; to have good health and a clear mind. The entirety of my practice cultivates the perception to see things as they are and be at peace; to be a true expression of my essential being on every level at every moment.
It gives me the certainty to explore opportunities which inhabit uncertainty, to naturally live with authenticity, and cultivate a core of clear vibrations from which comes all that I think, say, feel and do. At this core is personal integrity and relevance.
Practice is not only defined as time spent shedding. I include any and all aspects of music activity as practice: attentive listening, going to shows, absorbing history and culture. It includes reading music-related books, sharing my experience with others, even visiting drum shops and record stores. Learning as much as possible about the instrument, the music, the people, the cultures, etc., informs my creative ability, my intuition.
Time spent identifying, solving problems and thinking creatively away from the kit is always beneficial. These acts are interrelated and transferable; strengthened and expanded through use.
All of this work helps me make music on three levels. I can develop an artful unity of past, present and future. First, articulating something that acknowledges the past requires that I’ve done my homework; it informs my work and feeds my intuition to speak a familiar, rhythmic, musical and cultural language people can understand. Secondly, to interpret in a way that reflects and resonates with the present time; to say something honest, relevant, and contemporary. And lastly, to be forward-looking; to be creative in a way that perhaps contributes something new. This is identical to the creative work mentioned above to recognize, assimilate, modify and apply, only on a broader scale.
Practice provides a point of clarity from which I continually try to push my internal limitations and create a brighter opening amidst the bleak mortal whirl.
I practice to hone my skills for listening, for imagining, for expanding cognitive skills and empathy. The backbone of this type of practice is self-awareness and mindfulness. Mindful, engaged practicing helps me feel centered and grounded. Because of this I must connect with my instrument each and every day. For me, deliberate practice is a meditation. It is deep, direct, mindful attention, a highly focused state of mental and physical awareness. The discipline of mindfulness enables a direct connection with truth and honest music-making.
Through personal discipline, freedom is achieved.
Practice provides clarity which helps me set goals and gives me the determination to reach them. I uncover parts of myself, eliminate what I do not need and endeavor to bring out my best. This alchemy helps in purifying my sound. Practice, like learning, is a process of personal change and adaptability. It is the practice of self-mastery.
Playing music makes me want to practice. Playing my instrument is something that I want to do above all else, and I have gradually structured my life to be able to do so. It wasn’t easy, and for this I am eternally grateful.
Prioritizing / Integrity
What follows can be thought about in any meaningful endeavor. In our case, we direct our attention as musicians.
To prioritize is to place in order the things that are most important and to direct energy and resources to them. Integrity means to take an honest assessment of what we value the most and to purposefully structure our lives in a way that our actions reflect those priorities or principles. Bringing together our deeply-held principles with our day-to-day actions is to live an integrated life. For us, that may mean having the time and resources we need to work on the drumset. Most of us spend the majority of our energy on work that is not our top priority, at least not directly. It is possible to arrange our lives so that there is a natural alignment of our principles, priorities, values and actions, which creates a life of meaning and well-being.
In the debate over nature vs. nurture, what sets expert performers apart from others is not hard work itself, but the desire to work hard. It is what John Riley refers to as the gift (Riley, The master drummer DVD, 2009), to have work that we desire to do above all else simply because it is the very act of working that gives us pleasure.[i]
To be intrinsically motivated means to be naturally driven by internal motivators. There are no external forces motivating or pressuring us, and we act of our own volition for our own fulfillment (see chapter 13). Internal motivators feed a natural curiosity, to make connections on our own and to continually reach.
At some point in the important work of prioritizing we need to ask ourselves some difficult questions; questions which address the degree to which our commitment translates into action. Such as, how do our day to day actions reflect our deeply held passions and principles? Within the limited amount of time and energy that we have in a day, a year, a lifetime, are we directing that energy to the things that we value the most? Are we using our potential for good?
There is the question of time. Not just a matter of scheduling, the question of time gets to the heart of what we prioritize, and how we use the limited amount of time and energy we have each day. It forces us to look at the alignment of our personal principles and values with the work we actually do, with how we use our time.
It’s not a matter of finding more time. We already have all the time we will ever have. There is not any more to come. We have to work within this time frame, this here and now. We begin working on the things that contribute directly to our goal, and eliminate demands on our time and energy that do not. We find that we must make compromises and simply cannot satisfy all demands placed upon us. We gradually make the shift from activities that detract from our mission to those which contribute to its realization and success.
You are the orchestrator of your resources: attention, focus, time, energy, knowledge, experience and ability. The amount of time and energy we have are a finite resource. These limitations are fundamental. Responsibility for how we use them lies directly with us. At the same time, we find there are almost no limits to our human capacity and potential.
We get a reality check when we look at the music-related activities we are trying to accomplish within the limitations of time and energy we have.[ii]
With all that is required to reach personal and musical mastery, it’s not surprising we feel stress about there not being enough time. Add the demands created by a full time job unrelated to music, and the stress levels of not doing what we value simmer and boil over time. In this unhealthy state, we are not living but being lived.
We may ask, with all the commitments in life, when will I ever have the time for drums? Each day that passes we hope that someday we will have time to be able to do the very thing we love most. However, inaction contributes to stress, and as a result we may feel we are not living in a way that represents our true passion. We are not living according to our values or convictions.
While hope can inspire one to initiate action, hope is not action on its own. Hope is not enough. In fact, it’s determination that really makes things happen. Determined and organized, we are able to create space for what we love within the time we have. It may take years to arrange, but we can gradually make the choices that allow us to do what we love. Beyond merely making time for what we love, more importantly in the broad scheme of life, we create a life where passion, profession, vocation and mission unite.
This has profound implications for the quality of life we experience (Explored in a forthcoming chapter on Eudaimonia). Uniting aspects of our intentions, words, actions and our livelihood creates a harmonious way of life. The work builds upon an inner moral discipline. But rather than a morality based on fear and righteousness, on obligation, constraint, obedience, or religious doctrine, our discipline is based on harmony at the social, psychological, karmic and contemplative levels (Bodhi, 1999). We take stock of our virtues, the useful tools with which we counter the suffering of living.
Meaningful work that is a harmonic expression of our values leads to a life well-lived. In Aristotle: Nicomachean Ethics (translated by Broadie and Rowe, 2002), Aristotle refers to daimon, living a life of authenticity in accordance with our highest human natures. He distinguishes happiness as living well rather than defined by simple experiences of pleasure.
In their article “Living Well: A Self-Determination Theory Perspective on Eudaimonia,” (Ryan, Huta, & Deci, 2008), Ryan, Huta and Deci (2008) describe the concept as the “processes involved in living well” (p. 141). It is an enduring way of living that differs greatly from the endless search for pleasurable outcomes. Eudaimonia, according to Aristotle, “entails being actively engaged in excellent activity, reflectively making decisions, and behaving voluntarily towards ends that represent the realization of our highest human natures” (Ryan, Huta, & Deci, 2008, p. 145).
It goes hand in hand that a life lived according to our deepest personal values and principles is one that is created entirely of our own volition. One cannot live according to one’s own values without the autonomy necessary to do so. Ryan et al. define autonomy as “one’s reflective and thoughtful endorsement of actions” (p. 157).
While eudaimonic living is generally defined as a way of living rather than by its outcomes, there are outcomes associated with it. In addition to an enduring subjective well-being, we experience a higher quality of physical and psychological health. We create a life of meaning and purpose. We thrive. We experience a life of vitality, and a sense of peace and harmony (Ryan, Huta, & Deci, 2008).
We are very fortunate to have something we love to do more than anything else. While it seems as if it should be natural for everyone to be able to do what they love, the culture tells us otherwise. It takes work to prioritize that which we love the most.
The prioritization and subsequent integration of our principles within the actions of our daily life requires reflective consideration, and making the choice to endorse them requires acting of our own volition. Taking consistent actions that make space in our life for playing is the practice of making real changes in ourselves, changing our habits and taking steps that are in line with our priorities. A clear determination of where we are now lets us map out realistic goals and follow through with them.
Doing nothing accomplishes nothing, and chews up a lot of time; perhaps a whole lifetime.
Making the changes necessary to act on our priorities is our own responsibility. We need to believe in what is possible and then take responsibility for our actions. I believe we have a moral responsibility to realize that life is unfair, and work in spite of the injustices to draw upon the human spirit to overcome whatever obstacles we face.
Most of us have dreams and aspirations. Sometimes we hold ourselves back with the words, “if only …. “. This simple phrase wrongfully places responsibility for success or failure beyond our control. We immediately surrender our fate to forces deemed to be out of our control. Whether that’s true or not, we still must step up and use the entirety of our internal resources to reach a higher state of being. Blaming our inability to realize our potential on external situations is far too commonplace, and is certainly a lot easier than working to be free from them. External blame is a false comfort zone that not only becomes an excuse for inaction, it is inaction.
Although we may find certain paths to be blocked, it does not mean we cannot find alternatives. Nothing is permanent. All things are either in a state of becoming or decay. There are always opportunities, and they sometimes can be uncovered in unlikely places. Usually, when one door closes, another door opens.
Work to recognize and create opportunities, and have the courage to walk through the door when opportunity presents itself. Not to take risks foolishly, but via carefully thought-out plans. Even then, not all risk will vanish. Self-trust and courage take us there.
Imagine this possibility. What if you suddenly had the chance, without limitations, to do what you always wanted to do? Imagine that the one thing you always said you would do “if you could” or “if I didn’t have to…I’d…” was now possible. Imagine that suddenly you can. You suddenly have unlimited available time. You have no more excuses. Would you jump at the chance or find more excuses? When the external excuses for not doing what you love are gone, you come face to face with yourself. You come face to face with your dream, and you confront your determination to act on it. You confront yourself and the grit required to drag up all that you are and bring it to bear, simple to be your complete best self.
This can happen, but you must make it happen. For the vast majority of us, no one is going to hand us lives where we’ve realized our full potential. Seldom does the opportunity to suddenly do what we love drop from the sky. Orchestrating it is something we must work at daily. It is all part of the practice.
When there are no more excuses, when we suddenly can do what we said we always wanted to do, we may be temporarily frozen in fear…right before we bravely gather up all that we are made of, fears and all, to set off whole-heartedly on the journey of a lifetime.
Creativity, like art, comes in many forms. Observe. Improvise. Rethink. Deconstruct. Rearrange. Assimilate. Take numerous perspectives. Take risks. Embrace uncertainty. Collaborate. Learn from failure. Shaping a creative life is no different.
Changing how we think about work, money and all the things we think we need opens up a lot of possibilities. Money is not the only thing that holds value. Having time can be more valuable than money since it is time which gives us the ability to have things money cannot buy.
Deliberately working hard every single day for what we love, directing attention and action continuously toward our goal, yields significant results. Great achievements are made through countless battles and efforts. By choosing the battles that consume our energy and resources - those in line with our values and principles - we can do almost anything. Living a purposeful life requires the mindful alignment of our actions with our deepest values. With all of our energy and resources derived from and devoted to deeply-held personal principles, we are then able to live with integrity.
It is a matter of finding ourselves at a deeper level, shedding the skin of servitude and emerging to face the challenge. Through determination, flexibility and making sacrifices, we zero in on what is really important. These sacrifices make our work more valuable, more sacred. It is a practice unto itself.
Take a long hard look at what you believe is truly important in your life. Maybe it is playing drumset, or maybe your passion lies in other useful acts such as working for social justice, ending global food insecurity or destroying tyranny. Maybe your principles include individual responsibility, sustainable energy or becoming a teacher. Or perhaps you believe in helping the less-fortunate, spending time with family, community organizing, going to Mars, etc. Thoughtfully taking action to direct our own life first, we can then gradually expand our actions to bring about greater change through service to others. Energy directed positively toward the self affects positive change for the greater good.
Rather than a series of destinations, life is made up of a finite stream of ephemeral moments and encounters, some unplanned, many beautiful, coincidental and spontaneous; others unfair, tragic and heartbreaking. The connectedness of these singular and fleeting events is the thread that weaves together the days of a life, presenting joy, opportunities for reflection, thoughtfulness and empathy.
Through reflection, thoughtfulness and empathy we clarify our purpose. Through reaching, trying and failing; by allowing ourselves to be vulnerable, we take bold action and build confidence. We often don’t get to choose life’s challenges, but we do have a choice whether or not we learn from them. Like a sharpening stone, the experiences of living either sharpen the sensibilities that make us human, or they wear us down. That choice is ours alone.
Scheduling
To make time to practice and play regularly, you have to want it. Bad. Do not be deterred. Here are some suggestions:
Playing drumset is different from virtually anything else. It takes continual effort and assimilation so that we can use intuition and ability unconsciously. Practice addresses the fact that whatever gains we make are in a constant state of degradation and loss. The pool of skills we gain from practicing and playing feeds a slowly receding reservoir in which we must always put more in than is lost in order to maintain progress.
We often need to make sacrifices in other areas of our life in order to create consistent, available time, a resource both valuable and in limited supply. Spend less time at a day job. Require less money. Spend less time on non-practice and non-music related activities. Carefully select activities which align with and support your major interest.
Scheduling is not a matter of finding more time. It is a matter of prioritizing and structuring the time we already have to do what means the most to us. Each of us must put the pieces in place in our own way. Clearly identifying our priorities and working to make them the major recipient of our efforts is not easy, but can be done.
Where can we practice?
The nature of the drumset presents us with logistical challenges, too: the instrument can take up a lot of space and has been known to make a bit of noise. These challenges are an enduring part of what it means to be a drummer, and they determine when, where and how often we can play.
Certainly of all the options, having a drumset at home is a huge advantage. Having a set at home means we have a lot more time to play. We do not need to worry about scheduling or paying for a rehearsal space. Having a set at home eliminates the need for extra time and energy in travelling to and from a remote location.
Having a set at home greatly reduces excuses for not practicing. It makes it easier to practice regularly, with the additional advantage of being able to play anytime we have a few minutes to spare, such as while dinner is cooking or before leaving for work.
Understandably, having a full, loud drumset at home is not always an immediate option, for reasons I’m sure we are all familiar with. But you can make it one, if you want it bad enough. Consider these options and compromises.
Don’t rule out the obvious – choosing to live in a place where drumming is possible. For me, this is a prerequisite anywhere I live. Or, consider putting a small set together with the intent that it does not play as loud as a regular set, while still maintaining a satisfactory level of tone and feel through meticulous setup and tuning.
A minimal setup in smaller sizes with proper head choices, tuning, sound control, plus how you play goes a long way in mitigating neighborly relations, and opens up skills in areas previously untapped. There is always something that can be gained. Although having something resembling a kit is important, the most relevant factor in our success is what’s inside us. It’s helpful to realize you need not have a full size setup to practice. There is no reason why you can’t practice for hours and hours on just a cymbal, snare and hi hat. Force yourself to play quietly.
Whether or not we can play ought not to be perceived as a black and white choice. It’s not all or nothing. If it’s a choice between not playing at all and playing minimally, the answer is obvious. Even using a practice pad set or stacks of books as a last resort is better than nothing. Baking cookies for the neighbors or inviting them to the cookout works wonders to mitigate strains on neighborliness; they suddenly become more tolerant and understanding. Giving free lessons to the neighbor’s kids softens the impact of just how bothersome they perceive the sound to be.
In most US states, town and city ordinances allow for musical instrument practice as a right of livelihood within decibel levels that are favorable to playing drums (Noise Ordinances, 2019).
There are options. The point is to do something, take action. Take small steps in the right direction. Don’t wait for everything to be perfect or ideal - you’ll be waiting a long, long time.
At one time or another, we may have considered a digital set. As a drummer and as a teacher, I fully understand and am sympathetic with what compels one to consider such drastic measures. However, I am unable to recommend them as a replacement for acoustic drums. You are doing yourself a disservice. They can be integrated within an acoustic set to great effect, but on their own they have limited relationship with what it means to play an acoustic set.
Digital trigger drum sets reduce one’s relationship with the instrument to one that involves merely hitting this or that surface at a certain time. It tremendously over-simplifies the art and concept of drumset playing, void of any real sense of dynamics, tone, touch and expression.
Getting to know the acoustic drumset and gaining control over our sound is an extremely important and complex aspect of playing the instrument. Plug and play digital sets have none of that.
It is my strongly held view that the intensive work required to know the instrument and control the vast range of sound dynamics found in an acoustic drumset can only be done on a real drumset. Virtually any other option is better for your personal musical development. The constraints involved in finding a way to have a set at home have inherent benefits. It’s all part of the improvisational aspect and solving problems. Digital drums are at best an absolute last resort, yet remain, in my opinion, an abdication of our responsibilities as a musician.
Renting a rehearsal space generally means we can play without bothering others, which is a big plus, although there are other parts of the equation to consider. Some spaces have limited-access hours, and many are not as secure as we wish. A space that is away from home makes practice an even more dedicated activity, which is fine, until it results in not practicing. With a remote space we need to be motivated, and have the time and energy to travel there regularly. In reality, and perhaps rather optimistically, one may be able to get to a space twice a week. This will not be enough to reach our goals. In addition, a remote space requires more time due to travel, logistics, and space sharing. Generally I have a flexible small setup at home and a remote rehearsal space to use with a band. Sharing a rehearsal space is a totally workable possibility, although it decreases opportunities for easy and frequent access in the limited time we have.
Thanks for reading.
--Brett F. Campbell, 2021
References
Deci, Vallerand, Pelletier, & Ryan. (1991). Motivation and education: The self-determination perspective. Educational psychologist, 26 (3&4), 325-346.
Ericsson, K. A., Krampe, R. T., & Tesch-Romer, C. (1993). The Role of deliberate practice in the acquisition of expert performance. Psychological review, 100(3), 363-406.
Miller, E. K., & Buschman, T. J. (2015). Working memory capacity: Limits on the bandwidth of cognition. Daedalus, The Journal of the American Academy of Arts & Sciences, 112-122.
Nicoll, M. (1952). Living time and the integration of the life. London: Vincent Stuart.
Noise Ordinances. (2019). Retrieved August 2019, from Kinetics Noise Control: https://kineticsnoise.com/industrial/noise_ordinance.html
Ryan, R. M., Huta, V., & Deci, E. L. (2008). Living well: A self-determination theory perspective on eudaimonia. Journal of Happiness Studies, 9:139-170.
Riley, J. (2009). The master drummer DVD. Van Nuys, California: Alfred Music.
Addendum
[i] Drummer and educator John Riley describes the gift: “Listening to and studying the Masters is what informs me and inspires me to explore all the different possibilities of the drum set. Occasionally I'll hear someone say that they'll never be able to play as well as their idols do because they are not "gifted" like their idols are. To that I respond, what's the gift that those people have that you don't? Sure, some people are born with superior reflexes or perfect pitch, but those things are meaningless if not cultivated. I think the "gift" our idols possess is more a matter of disposition than physical attributes. The gifted are the lucky few who have found something that they're passionate about. So passionate in fact, that they are compelled to investigate it whether anyone else is interested or not. Their temperament allows them to spend countless hours and years refining their craft by practicing the things they can't do simply because that process is the thing they find most enjoyable in life. That's the gift” (Riley, The Master drummer, 2009).
[ii] In the list below, music-related activities are compiled from subjects in Ericsson’s research (Ericsson, Krampe, & Tesch-Romer, 1993) and from my own personal experience. The items represent our primary focus on music-related activities and include essentials such as sleep, income generation, health maintenance, etc. Items can be quantified not only by how much time they consume, but also by their relevance to our goals, how much effort they take (energy consumed), and how enjoyable they may be. It should be noted that even with all forms of personal entertainment or social activities omitted, there is little time for anything else.
Such a realization - a glimpse of the limitlessness of the instrument - can either motivate or paralyze us. Some may resign their potential to mediocrity or even give up on music altogether. Some may choose to avoid serious practice and simply be content with playing music. Others will commit to pursue their limitless potential on the instrument with vigor, bravery and personal discipline.
Perhaps we are among the lucky few who are gifted to work because there is nothing else we would rather do. We may be intrinsically motivated by an unrelenting internal drive arising out of curiosity, the desire to learn and grow, and the internal joy that comes from working simply for the love of doing so. Some of us may be externally motivated to practice, driven by a range of external benefits such as achieving particular outcomes or rewards: fame, recognition, money, status, etc. (Deci et al., 1991)
Yet within the complex stratum of what compels each of us to practice - whether we are gifted with a natural desire to work at what we love or compelled by external ambitions - we still must face the complex relationship between ourselves, the music and the instrument.
At its most fundamental level, in the making of creative improvisational music we draw from our unique experience, empathy and intuition. Playing music may appear to be born entirely from technical skill and chops, but consider the following:
- Virtually all that we are, other than the body, is invisible (Nicoll, 1952).
- The currency we trade in - our experience, our intuition, our empathy - cannot be seen or explained.
- The things that hold the most value cannot be quantified.
- Each one of us is a vessel for human spirit. Making music, and for that matter, living, is the sharing of that spirit.
With so much that came before us, it can be difficult to know what to practice. Even if we clarify the ‘what’ of practice, the ‘how’ consistently goes unattended to. ‘How to practice’ is seldom considered or discussed. It is a question that is not only not answered, it is hardly ever even asked. Many want to find the ‘best’ and most effective exercises, techniques and gear, but little if any importance is placed on the invisible aspects: the bodily and intellectual senses and the executive function which guides and processes the information they gather.
Practice is often perceived as disengaged and mysterious; we may feel it is tedious, dull and boring, even painful. We might avoid it as much as possible, perhaps do it un-consciously, or go into it with trepidation and angst. For some, a fear of failure may keep us from even trying. It need not be this way. Let’s look at some of the reasons why we might wish to practice. Understanding what we bring to music-making helps clarify the areas to which we devote our energy and attention in practice.
Why practice
Practice is not an end, it is a means. It is the means by which we make it easier to connect with our creative musicianship. The primary focus of proper practice is to develop the skills for creative music-making: the complete integration of music and body, access to the conscious and un-conscious mind, the free flow of our energy and to connect experience and intuition in the here and now. These intangible skills, fueled by experience, are supported by the full range of our sensibilities. This integration should be a major part of our practice. In other words, we must bring together all that we are for the potential of being all we can be.
Making music is the primary context and reason for where and why we ought to direct our energy during practice. Practice should maintain a close connection with the state of being we use to make music. Even without the goals of performance, playing drums and practicing can also stand on its own, apart from the music-making context. For many, the simple, meditative act of working is a joy that, beyond all else, fulfills a deep personal need for clarity, connection, competence and self-determination.
In understanding practice, it is helpful to understand just what is going on when we make music. As we saw in Chapter 1, the musical state is one in which cognition is released from the mundane of parts, and the mechanics of perfection are detached from self-consciousness. We use our mental, physical and emotional energy to receive, give meaning to and harmonize the musical energies of the moment. The musical state is one in which the mental capacities we develop during practice are redirected and neurons in the brain are synchronized in the being-state of focused creativity.
Musicianship is part of the cultivation of our consciousness and arises from the internal development of our perceptive capacities. It is dependent upon our sensibilities and our aptitude for discernment. Making creative music is a creative cognitive activity, existing within, or in spite of, the limitations of our own cognitive capacity. Consequently, improving the quality of our music-related capacities, specifically, improving the quality of our sensibilities, vastly increases our potential for creative music-making.
Music-making requires a highly sensitive state of attentiveness. Because of this, practice ought to make intensive use of attention. Attention does not limit creative possibility, it increases its potential. Our capacity for attention can be broad in scope, as in making the relevant conceptual and contextual connections. Or it may be highly focused, directed toward specific details, or both.
The multiplicity of focus and awareness necessary in playing the drumset creates the space for the emergence of ideas that are both convergent and divergent in nature. Directing attention through the processing of input via all our available senses not only improves technical skill, it increases our ‘head-room’. Head-room is the capacity and quality of our sensibilities for music-making.
Cognitive capacity can be defined as how much we can hold ‘in mind’ at any one moment (Miller & Buschman, 2015). It serves as a field, a space for the interplay and creative re-assemblage of broad and highly detailed information relating to tasks at hand. On this mental sketchpad, complex information is drawn from the bodily and intellectual senses. These resources combine in real time with experience, facility, and cultural awareness. They combine with our intuitive musical language and empathic perspectives to support, respond, and collaborate in the creation of music. The level of receptivity to and our internal collaboration with all these sources are what give shape to our musical sensibility and instinct.
Gains made from practice will arise from wherever we focus our mental energy, whereas work done without mental focus simply reinforces unconscious behavior. Music is a highly conscious act which requires practice that matches the same levels of awareness. Practice at this level sharpens and tunes our sense faculties and creates a path for our sound. Our sound exemplifies our touch, and our touch represents the degree of hearing and attentiveness we have in the moment.
Efforts focused solely on the technical will improve technical aspects, yet fail to make the desired creative musical connections. In addition, mindless repetition while mentally disengaged from the work only increases the level of our disengagement.
Deliberate attention to tone, touch, timing, and phrasing, effort devoted to fluidity, relaxation and control, striving for clarity and conversing, will deliver gains in these areas. Our sound improves dramatically through deep attentiveness to melodic phrasing, call and response, emotional expression, and to the constant deepening of our level of hearing. All these result in what we call touch.
Practicing with deliberate attention takes a great deal more internal effort than simply ripping exercises from a book. We must make use of the same presence of mind that we use in music-making.
To improve, we must practice in a way that is equivalent to the level of musical engagement we envision. In the previous chapter we saw that technical ability and chops are a small part of all that we use in a creative context. Here we will examine how, with the right kind of practice, we increase our skill in all areas, namely the quality of our cognition, of our sensibilities, our conceptual understanding and our perceptive abilities.
We may define the reasons for practice in our own way, but what all of us really want is to play as well as we can. With over 100 years of American music as our guide, deep attentive listening is the single best way to absorb the musical instincts we drummers need. Once steeped in the melodic, harmonic and rhythmic turns, feels, tones and attitudes of the music, a good player expresses these essentials with exceptional clarity or creates contrasts of form with bracing relevance to the broader cultural milieu.
When musical ideas are delivered clearly, it could be said that we have good technique. Music communicates best when ideas are shared in a way that can be clearly understood or felt. In our case, it is my opinion that what we want is valid, relatable content delivered clearly while technique remains unseen. Musical ideas played with clarity lift the music above the players, beyond any awareness of technique. In this way the relatable content is the music, not the method of delivery. We speak relatable truths while technique remains hidden.
Technique, is but one part of what we use to play creative music on the drumset. Technique is the visible aspect of drumming. Technique is the easiest of them all to teach. They are the tools, they are not the music. Music is so much more. What we want is to increase our capacity across all areas, most of which are internal and invisible, then bring them all together in practice as well as in performance.
While this chapter focuses on practice, it must be remembered that our primary teacher is the music. It is the music which permeates the physical body, seeps into the emotions and the intellect, and animates the spirit. In turn, the spirit animates the music. Getting in the zone for real creativity in music means to bring together all the various parts of ourselves for the musical / spiritual exchange to occur.
A personal connection
The drumset epitomizes multiplicity and diversity (see forthcoming Chapter on Collective Purpose). It is inherently collaborative on multiple levels, from its input to its output and everything in between. Its coalescing nature, arising from cultural diversity, gives it the unique ability to speak the world’s rhythmic languages, and do so in modern, relatable terms. Drumming’s nature as a social event places us at the heart of the culture.
The drumset plays an important role in personal and cultural development. This is due to both the collaborative nature of the instrument and the fact that it requires the unification of all that we are to play. Both of these factors are baked in to the instrument.
Due to its collective nature, the instrument presents us with the potential for a complete physical, mental, emotional, experiential and spiritual connection. This total interface is the gateway for expanding our connectedness on all levels. A crucible for personal alchemy, the drumset provides a context and laboratory for making connections and sensing truth; it creates a discipline for learning and growth, for traversing worlds of sound, culture, history, science and art. It holds potential for the integration of a profound personal practice.
For me, practice is continuous, meaningful work. It is something I do because it gives me great pleasure. What I practice may be defined by clear and present ideas that I wish to express more clearly or perhaps modify for a certain feel. At all times the door is open to creativity, to spontaneity, and to the connective spark of possibility.
Playing drums is something I wish to do above all else. In the process of improving my abilities on the drums, the understanding I gain helps me to find ways to expand my capacities and sensibilities overall. Practice is my active participation in the act of improving.
The sound and feel I get is not simply the sound of my drums and cymbals, but rather is a direct result of how I am playing them right now. My tone is a direct reflection of who I am at that very moment. Specifically, it reflects my level of hearing. The ability to blend or contrast, the clarity of my sounds and rhythms, even my humanness and my own perceived limitations - all that is within me is on display.
The personal discipline that I cultivate through proper practice continually sharpens and expands my sensibilities. This has brought clarity to my life and to my music.
The work is a continuous process of clarifying, of taking multiple perspectives to better understand something that I think might hold truth. Details become finer and finer while my mental space increases. I work to observe and to imagine, asking, “what makes this work?” or “why isn’t this working?” Or, “what if I did this instead?”
By identifying and isolating a particular idea as a point of reference, I then take it apart and practice it as it is to make it an unconscious and accessible part of my vocabulary. Next I work on ways that the pattern or idea might be altered. This can be done in any number of ways, such as adding or removing notes, adding or removing accents and their placement, or changing the sticking. Other ways to alter and expand the idea include changing the feel, changing the phrasing, or by how the idea might be voiced on the instrument. And finally, the altered idea is inserted into a musical framework in a way that is seamless and propulsive. In short, I recognize, assimilate, modify and integrate.
I may work to make the complicated simple, or to find the complex within the simple. Mistakes become opportunities. In the process of improving, of fixing, of making changes and trying new approaches, I increase my capacity for improvisation, explore divergent ideas and make intelligent choices.
In addition, my work teaches me understanding, patience, acceptance, and determination. When possible, I change the things I cannot accept. I cultivate an acceptance of the nature of things and accept that which cannot be known, possessed, understood or quantified. My health and well-being are balanced by allowing for the suchness of life, seeing beyond the visible, and working intensely in the moment to improve myself.
More importantly, practice reminds me to keep my heart open to give and receive. I practice so I can make the music feel good, make others feel good; to have good health and a clear mind. The entirety of my practice cultivates the perception to see things as they are and be at peace; to be a true expression of my essential being on every level at every moment.
It gives me the certainty to explore opportunities which inhabit uncertainty, to naturally live with authenticity, and cultivate a core of clear vibrations from which comes all that I think, say, feel and do. At this core is personal integrity and relevance.
Practice is not only defined as time spent shedding. I include any and all aspects of music activity as practice: attentive listening, going to shows, absorbing history and culture. It includes reading music-related books, sharing my experience with others, even visiting drum shops and record stores. Learning as much as possible about the instrument, the music, the people, the cultures, etc., informs my creative ability, my intuition.
Time spent identifying, solving problems and thinking creatively away from the kit is always beneficial. These acts are interrelated and transferable; strengthened and expanded through use.
All of this work helps me make music on three levels. I can develop an artful unity of past, present and future. First, articulating something that acknowledges the past requires that I’ve done my homework; it informs my work and feeds my intuition to speak a familiar, rhythmic, musical and cultural language people can understand. Secondly, to interpret in a way that reflects and resonates with the present time; to say something honest, relevant, and contemporary. And lastly, to be forward-looking; to be creative in a way that perhaps contributes something new. This is identical to the creative work mentioned above to recognize, assimilate, modify and apply, only on a broader scale.
Practice provides a point of clarity from which I continually try to push my internal limitations and create a brighter opening amidst the bleak mortal whirl.
I practice to hone my skills for listening, for imagining, for expanding cognitive skills and empathy. The backbone of this type of practice is self-awareness and mindfulness. Mindful, engaged practicing helps me feel centered and grounded. Because of this I must connect with my instrument each and every day. For me, deliberate practice is a meditation. It is deep, direct, mindful attention, a highly focused state of mental and physical awareness. The discipline of mindfulness enables a direct connection with truth and honest music-making.
Through personal discipline, freedom is achieved.
Practice provides clarity which helps me set goals and gives me the determination to reach them. I uncover parts of myself, eliminate what I do not need and endeavor to bring out my best. This alchemy helps in purifying my sound. Practice, like learning, is a process of personal change and adaptability. It is the practice of self-mastery.
Playing music makes me want to practice. Playing my instrument is something that I want to do above all else, and I have gradually structured my life to be able to do so. It wasn’t easy, and for this I am eternally grateful.
Prioritizing / Integrity
What follows can be thought about in any meaningful endeavor. In our case, we direct our attention as musicians.
To prioritize is to place in order the things that are most important and to direct energy and resources to them. Integrity means to take an honest assessment of what we value the most and to purposefully structure our lives in a way that our actions reflect those priorities or principles. Bringing together our deeply-held principles with our day-to-day actions is to live an integrated life. For us, that may mean having the time and resources we need to work on the drumset. Most of us spend the majority of our energy on work that is not our top priority, at least not directly. It is possible to arrange our lives so that there is a natural alignment of our principles, priorities, values and actions, which creates a life of meaning and well-being.
In the debate over nature vs. nurture, what sets expert performers apart from others is not hard work itself, but the desire to work hard. It is what John Riley refers to as the gift (Riley, The master drummer DVD, 2009), to have work that we desire to do above all else simply because it is the very act of working that gives us pleasure.[i]
To be intrinsically motivated means to be naturally driven by internal motivators. There are no external forces motivating or pressuring us, and we act of our own volition for our own fulfillment (see chapter 13). Internal motivators feed a natural curiosity, to make connections on our own and to continually reach.
At some point in the important work of prioritizing we need to ask ourselves some difficult questions; questions which address the degree to which our commitment translates into action. Such as, how do our day to day actions reflect our deeply held passions and principles? Within the limited amount of time and energy that we have in a day, a year, a lifetime, are we directing that energy to the things that we value the most? Are we using our potential for good?
There is the question of time. Not just a matter of scheduling, the question of time gets to the heart of what we prioritize, and how we use the limited amount of time and energy we have each day. It forces us to look at the alignment of our personal principles and values with the work we actually do, with how we use our time.
It’s not a matter of finding more time. We already have all the time we will ever have. There is not any more to come. We have to work within this time frame, this here and now. We begin working on the things that contribute directly to our goal, and eliminate demands on our time and energy that do not. We find that we must make compromises and simply cannot satisfy all demands placed upon us. We gradually make the shift from activities that detract from our mission to those which contribute to its realization and success.
You are the orchestrator of your resources: attention, focus, time, energy, knowledge, experience and ability. The amount of time and energy we have are a finite resource. These limitations are fundamental. Responsibility for how we use them lies directly with us. At the same time, we find there are almost no limits to our human capacity and potential.
We get a reality check when we look at the music-related activities we are trying to accomplish within the limitations of time and energy we have.[ii]
With all that is required to reach personal and musical mastery, it’s not surprising we feel stress about there not being enough time. Add the demands created by a full time job unrelated to music, and the stress levels of not doing what we value simmer and boil over time. In this unhealthy state, we are not living but being lived.
We may ask, with all the commitments in life, when will I ever have the time for drums? Each day that passes we hope that someday we will have time to be able to do the very thing we love most. However, inaction contributes to stress, and as a result we may feel we are not living in a way that represents our true passion. We are not living according to our values or convictions.
While hope can inspire one to initiate action, hope is not action on its own. Hope is not enough. In fact, it’s determination that really makes things happen. Determined and organized, we are able to create space for what we love within the time we have. It may take years to arrange, but we can gradually make the choices that allow us to do what we love. Beyond merely making time for what we love, more importantly in the broad scheme of life, we create a life where passion, profession, vocation and mission unite.
This has profound implications for the quality of life we experience (Explored in a forthcoming chapter on Eudaimonia). Uniting aspects of our intentions, words, actions and our livelihood creates a harmonious way of life. The work builds upon an inner moral discipline. But rather than a morality based on fear and righteousness, on obligation, constraint, obedience, or religious doctrine, our discipline is based on harmony at the social, psychological, karmic and contemplative levels (Bodhi, 1999). We take stock of our virtues, the useful tools with which we counter the suffering of living.
Meaningful work that is a harmonic expression of our values leads to a life well-lived. In Aristotle: Nicomachean Ethics (translated by Broadie and Rowe, 2002), Aristotle refers to daimon, living a life of authenticity in accordance with our highest human natures. He distinguishes happiness as living well rather than defined by simple experiences of pleasure.
In their article “Living Well: A Self-Determination Theory Perspective on Eudaimonia,” (Ryan, Huta, & Deci, 2008), Ryan, Huta and Deci (2008) describe the concept as the “processes involved in living well” (p. 141). It is an enduring way of living that differs greatly from the endless search for pleasurable outcomes. Eudaimonia, according to Aristotle, “entails being actively engaged in excellent activity, reflectively making decisions, and behaving voluntarily towards ends that represent the realization of our highest human natures” (Ryan, Huta, & Deci, 2008, p. 145).
It goes hand in hand that a life lived according to our deepest personal values and principles is one that is created entirely of our own volition. One cannot live according to one’s own values without the autonomy necessary to do so. Ryan et al. define autonomy as “one’s reflective and thoughtful endorsement of actions” (p. 157).
While eudaimonic living is generally defined as a way of living rather than by its outcomes, there are outcomes associated with it. In addition to an enduring subjective well-being, we experience a higher quality of physical and psychological health. We create a life of meaning and purpose. We thrive. We experience a life of vitality, and a sense of peace and harmony (Ryan, Huta, & Deci, 2008).
We are very fortunate to have something we love to do more than anything else. While it seems as if it should be natural for everyone to be able to do what they love, the culture tells us otherwise. It takes work to prioritize that which we love the most.
The prioritization and subsequent integration of our principles within the actions of our daily life requires reflective consideration, and making the choice to endorse them requires acting of our own volition. Taking consistent actions that make space in our life for playing is the practice of making real changes in ourselves, changing our habits and taking steps that are in line with our priorities. A clear determination of where we are now lets us map out realistic goals and follow through with them.
Doing nothing accomplishes nothing, and chews up a lot of time; perhaps a whole lifetime.
Making the changes necessary to act on our priorities is our own responsibility. We need to believe in what is possible and then take responsibility for our actions. I believe we have a moral responsibility to realize that life is unfair, and work in spite of the injustices to draw upon the human spirit to overcome whatever obstacles we face.
Most of us have dreams and aspirations. Sometimes we hold ourselves back with the words, “if only …. “. This simple phrase wrongfully places responsibility for success or failure beyond our control. We immediately surrender our fate to forces deemed to be out of our control. Whether that’s true or not, we still must step up and use the entirety of our internal resources to reach a higher state of being. Blaming our inability to realize our potential on external situations is far too commonplace, and is certainly a lot easier than working to be free from them. External blame is a false comfort zone that not only becomes an excuse for inaction, it is inaction.
Although we may find certain paths to be blocked, it does not mean we cannot find alternatives. Nothing is permanent. All things are either in a state of becoming or decay. There are always opportunities, and they sometimes can be uncovered in unlikely places. Usually, when one door closes, another door opens.
Work to recognize and create opportunities, and have the courage to walk through the door when opportunity presents itself. Not to take risks foolishly, but via carefully thought-out plans. Even then, not all risk will vanish. Self-trust and courage take us there.
Imagine this possibility. What if you suddenly had the chance, without limitations, to do what you always wanted to do? Imagine that the one thing you always said you would do “if you could” or “if I didn’t have to…I’d…” was now possible. Imagine that suddenly you can. You suddenly have unlimited available time. You have no more excuses. Would you jump at the chance or find more excuses? When the external excuses for not doing what you love are gone, you come face to face with yourself. You come face to face with your dream, and you confront your determination to act on it. You confront yourself and the grit required to drag up all that you are and bring it to bear, simple to be your complete best self.
This can happen, but you must make it happen. For the vast majority of us, no one is going to hand us lives where we’ve realized our full potential. Seldom does the opportunity to suddenly do what we love drop from the sky. Orchestrating it is something we must work at daily. It is all part of the practice.
When there are no more excuses, when we suddenly can do what we said we always wanted to do, we may be temporarily frozen in fear…right before we bravely gather up all that we are made of, fears and all, to set off whole-heartedly on the journey of a lifetime.
Creativity, like art, comes in many forms. Observe. Improvise. Rethink. Deconstruct. Rearrange. Assimilate. Take numerous perspectives. Take risks. Embrace uncertainty. Collaborate. Learn from failure. Shaping a creative life is no different.
Changing how we think about work, money and all the things we think we need opens up a lot of possibilities. Money is not the only thing that holds value. Having time can be more valuable than money since it is time which gives us the ability to have things money cannot buy.
Deliberately working hard every single day for what we love, directing attention and action continuously toward our goal, yields significant results. Great achievements are made through countless battles and efforts. By choosing the battles that consume our energy and resources - those in line with our values and principles - we can do almost anything. Living a purposeful life requires the mindful alignment of our actions with our deepest values. With all of our energy and resources derived from and devoted to deeply-held personal principles, we are then able to live with integrity.
It is a matter of finding ourselves at a deeper level, shedding the skin of servitude and emerging to face the challenge. Through determination, flexibility and making sacrifices, we zero in on what is really important. These sacrifices make our work more valuable, more sacred. It is a practice unto itself.
Take a long hard look at what you believe is truly important in your life. Maybe it is playing drumset, or maybe your passion lies in other useful acts such as working for social justice, ending global food insecurity or destroying tyranny. Maybe your principles include individual responsibility, sustainable energy or becoming a teacher. Or perhaps you believe in helping the less-fortunate, spending time with family, community organizing, going to Mars, etc. Thoughtfully taking action to direct our own life first, we can then gradually expand our actions to bring about greater change through service to others. Energy directed positively toward the self affects positive change for the greater good.
Rather than a series of destinations, life is made up of a finite stream of ephemeral moments and encounters, some unplanned, many beautiful, coincidental and spontaneous; others unfair, tragic and heartbreaking. The connectedness of these singular and fleeting events is the thread that weaves together the days of a life, presenting joy, opportunities for reflection, thoughtfulness and empathy.
Through reflection, thoughtfulness and empathy we clarify our purpose. Through reaching, trying and failing; by allowing ourselves to be vulnerable, we take bold action and build confidence. We often don’t get to choose life’s challenges, but we do have a choice whether or not we learn from them. Like a sharpening stone, the experiences of living either sharpen the sensibilities that make us human, or they wear us down. That choice is ours alone.
Scheduling
To make time to practice and play regularly, you have to want it. Bad. Do not be deterred. Here are some suggestions:
- Morning practice is highly effective (Ericsson, Krampe, & Tesch-Romer, 1993). Research has demonstrated that practice involving mental – physical coordination is most effective in the pre-noon hours. In the morning the mind is clear, the brain is rested and receptive. Muscles are relaxed. In addition, morning practice means that we need not stress about finding time later in the day, and the feeling of accomplishment stays with us. Do it before the day is consumed by other obligations.
- Check priorities. Cut back on expenditures. Not needing so much money enables us to work less and have more time for what we value most. Remember, be flexible, be willing to compromise, learn to say no, thank you. When it comes to practice, time is a resource more valuable than money.
- Simplify and compromise. Put first things first and use your time to pursue the things that make a difference and mean the most.
Playing drumset is different from virtually anything else. It takes continual effort and assimilation so that we can use intuition and ability unconsciously. Practice addresses the fact that whatever gains we make are in a constant state of degradation and loss. The pool of skills we gain from practicing and playing feeds a slowly receding reservoir in which we must always put more in than is lost in order to maintain progress.
We often need to make sacrifices in other areas of our life in order to create consistent, available time, a resource both valuable and in limited supply. Spend less time at a day job. Require less money. Spend less time on non-practice and non-music related activities. Carefully select activities which align with and support your major interest.
Scheduling is not a matter of finding more time. It is a matter of prioritizing and structuring the time we already have to do what means the most to us. Each of us must put the pieces in place in our own way. Clearly identifying our priorities and working to make them the major recipient of our efforts is not easy, but can be done.
Where can we practice?
The nature of the drumset presents us with logistical challenges, too: the instrument can take up a lot of space and has been known to make a bit of noise. These challenges are an enduring part of what it means to be a drummer, and they determine when, where and how often we can play.
Certainly of all the options, having a drumset at home is a huge advantage. Having a set at home means we have a lot more time to play. We do not need to worry about scheduling or paying for a rehearsal space. Having a set at home eliminates the need for extra time and energy in travelling to and from a remote location.
Having a set at home greatly reduces excuses for not practicing. It makes it easier to practice regularly, with the additional advantage of being able to play anytime we have a few minutes to spare, such as while dinner is cooking or before leaving for work.
Understandably, having a full, loud drumset at home is not always an immediate option, for reasons I’m sure we are all familiar with. But you can make it one, if you want it bad enough. Consider these options and compromises.
Don’t rule out the obvious – choosing to live in a place where drumming is possible. For me, this is a prerequisite anywhere I live. Or, consider putting a small set together with the intent that it does not play as loud as a regular set, while still maintaining a satisfactory level of tone and feel through meticulous setup and tuning.
A minimal setup in smaller sizes with proper head choices, tuning, sound control, plus how you play goes a long way in mitigating neighborly relations, and opens up skills in areas previously untapped. There is always something that can be gained. Although having something resembling a kit is important, the most relevant factor in our success is what’s inside us. It’s helpful to realize you need not have a full size setup to practice. There is no reason why you can’t practice for hours and hours on just a cymbal, snare and hi hat. Force yourself to play quietly.
Whether or not we can play ought not to be perceived as a black and white choice. It’s not all or nothing. If it’s a choice between not playing at all and playing minimally, the answer is obvious. Even using a practice pad set or stacks of books as a last resort is better than nothing. Baking cookies for the neighbors or inviting them to the cookout works wonders to mitigate strains on neighborliness; they suddenly become more tolerant and understanding. Giving free lessons to the neighbor’s kids softens the impact of just how bothersome they perceive the sound to be.
In most US states, town and city ordinances allow for musical instrument practice as a right of livelihood within decibel levels that are favorable to playing drums (Noise Ordinances, 2019).
There are options. The point is to do something, take action. Take small steps in the right direction. Don’t wait for everything to be perfect or ideal - you’ll be waiting a long, long time.
At one time or another, we may have considered a digital set. As a drummer and as a teacher, I fully understand and am sympathetic with what compels one to consider such drastic measures. However, I am unable to recommend them as a replacement for acoustic drums. You are doing yourself a disservice. They can be integrated within an acoustic set to great effect, but on their own they have limited relationship with what it means to play an acoustic set.
Digital trigger drum sets reduce one’s relationship with the instrument to one that involves merely hitting this or that surface at a certain time. It tremendously over-simplifies the art and concept of drumset playing, void of any real sense of dynamics, tone, touch and expression.
Getting to know the acoustic drumset and gaining control over our sound is an extremely important and complex aspect of playing the instrument. Plug and play digital sets have none of that.
It is my strongly held view that the intensive work required to know the instrument and control the vast range of sound dynamics found in an acoustic drumset can only be done on a real drumset. Virtually any other option is better for your personal musical development. The constraints involved in finding a way to have a set at home have inherent benefits. It’s all part of the improvisational aspect and solving problems. Digital drums are at best an absolute last resort, yet remain, in my opinion, an abdication of our responsibilities as a musician.
Renting a rehearsal space generally means we can play without bothering others, which is a big plus, although there are other parts of the equation to consider. Some spaces have limited-access hours, and many are not as secure as we wish. A space that is away from home makes practice an even more dedicated activity, which is fine, until it results in not practicing. With a remote space we need to be motivated, and have the time and energy to travel there regularly. In reality, and perhaps rather optimistically, one may be able to get to a space twice a week. This will not be enough to reach our goals. In addition, a remote space requires more time due to travel, logistics, and space sharing. Generally I have a flexible small setup at home and a remote rehearsal space to use with a band. Sharing a rehearsal space is a totally workable possibility, although it decreases opportunities for easy and frequent access in the limited time we have.
Thanks for reading.
--Brett F. Campbell, 2021
References
Deci, Vallerand, Pelletier, & Ryan. (1991). Motivation and education: The self-determination perspective. Educational psychologist, 26 (3&4), 325-346.
Ericsson, K. A., Krampe, R. T., & Tesch-Romer, C. (1993). The Role of deliberate practice in the acquisition of expert performance. Psychological review, 100(3), 363-406.
Miller, E. K., & Buschman, T. J. (2015). Working memory capacity: Limits on the bandwidth of cognition. Daedalus, The Journal of the American Academy of Arts & Sciences, 112-122.
Nicoll, M. (1952). Living time and the integration of the life. London: Vincent Stuart.
Noise Ordinances. (2019). Retrieved August 2019, from Kinetics Noise Control: https://kineticsnoise.com/industrial/noise_ordinance.html
Ryan, R. M., Huta, V., & Deci, E. L. (2008). Living well: A self-determination theory perspective on eudaimonia. Journal of Happiness Studies, 9:139-170.
Riley, J. (2009). The master drummer DVD. Van Nuys, California: Alfred Music.
Addendum
[i] Drummer and educator John Riley describes the gift: “Listening to and studying the Masters is what informs me and inspires me to explore all the different possibilities of the drum set. Occasionally I'll hear someone say that they'll never be able to play as well as their idols do because they are not "gifted" like their idols are. To that I respond, what's the gift that those people have that you don't? Sure, some people are born with superior reflexes or perfect pitch, but those things are meaningless if not cultivated. I think the "gift" our idols possess is more a matter of disposition than physical attributes. The gifted are the lucky few who have found something that they're passionate about. So passionate in fact, that they are compelled to investigate it whether anyone else is interested or not. Their temperament allows them to spend countless hours and years refining their craft by practicing the things they can't do simply because that process is the thing they find most enjoyable in life. That's the gift” (Riley, The Master drummer, 2009).
[ii] In the list below, music-related activities are compiled from subjects in Ericsson’s research (Ericsson, Krampe, & Tesch-Romer, 1993) and from my own personal experience. The items represent our primary focus on music-related activities and include essentials such as sleep, income generation, health maintenance, etc. Items can be quantified not only by how much time they consume, but also by their relevance to our goals, how much effort they take (energy consumed), and how enjoyable they may be. It should be noted that even with all forms of personal entertainment or social activities omitted, there is little time for anything else.
- Practicing alone
- Group rehearsals
- Playing for fun alone
- Playing for fun with others
- Taking lessons
- Performances, shows, gigs
- Self-promotion
- Logistics: selecting gigs, scheduling, making arrangements & transportation to and from
- Teaching
- Organization & prep
- Listening to music
- Going to shows
- Learning music theory or another instrument
- Professional conversation
- Personal chores
- Work and income generation
- Physical & mental health, exercise
- Instrument adjustments
- Travel, touring
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