In This Edition:
1.
In Like a Lion
2.
Succumbing to Attachment
3.
In with the New?
4.
Extraordinary on a Small Scale
5.
Reflection
In Like a Lion
Weather-wise, the Northeast is taking it on the chin, but we've got
balmy days down here!When I lived in Connecticut, I frequently heard the
expression, "in like a lion, out like a lamb," meaning, I suppose, that the
end of March ushered in the beginning of Spring. Actually, in my 26 years
in Connecticut, it hardly ever happened that way. Instead, just around the
time you wanted to put the snow shovels away, another storm would hit.
Yippee! No school, stuck at home again.
Succumbing to Attachment
On a personal level, getting stuck in a rut is no less common.
Attachment reigns supreme to achievers of all ages. When my daughter was 4
years old, her mother and I bought her an old, upright piano. It was a
little beat up, a little banged up, and was missing a few keys, but hey, for
a 4-year old, it was fine.
To our amazement, she played well. At age six, she began piano
lessons. The teacher encouraged us that our little girl had a special
talent. Two years later, the piano teacher told us it was time to buy a
Grand Piano for Valerie. It would be quite expensive, but she was now
winning awards, so it seemed like the right thing to do.
We went to a large piano emporium and Valerie tried all of them!
Finally we came to a piano that proved to be "the one." She loved it and we
bought it. We told Valerie that the piano movers were going to take the
other piano in trade, but it didn't register with her. Days before the new
one arrived, we cleaned up the old one, and then talked to Valerie about how
that piano would be leaving and the new one would be arriving.
The old had been her piano from the age of 4 and she was now 8. In
other words, she had been with this piano for half of her life. She broke
into a sob - not just a kid crying, but a deep mourning sob, as if she had
experienced the death of a parent or a close friend.
"It's the only piano I have ever known, I have been playing with it
since I was 4! Why do we have to get rid of it?" Now, trying to be a good
father, I started to explain to her that realistically we couldn't keep both
pianos. The house is a good size, but two pianos are a bit much.
Psychology tells us the older you get, the harder it is to let go of
attachments. The way we do things and how we think start to become embedded
into the brain in the form of neural pathways. These pathways serve as paths
of least resistance that prompt us to take mental shortcuts in response to
stimuli.
In with the New?
We took photos of the piano and we videotaped her playing - we made
sure we had it covered. I explained to her that once the old piano
departed, she would start to play on the new one and she wouldn't even think
of the old one. But hey, this is not an argument for an 8 year old. For
days she lamented, "Why do we have to get rid of the old one?"
Finally the day arrived. The piano movers came to deliver the new
piano and take away the old one. Something in me, I don't know where it
came from, finally got through to her. I was able to communicate with her
in a way she could understand and accept. Or, maybe she got there on her
own, I don't know.
After another tearful outbreak I said, "Val, when the piano goes back
to the store, then some other parents will see it and maybe they'll buy it
for their little girl. She'll learn how to play, and she'll have that piano
several years before she gets a bigger one."
Now, Val's expression started to change a little. She was still
sobbing, but I knew that she was ready to forsake her attachment when she
said to me, "Or maybe it will be a little boy." A change in facial
expression nearly always precedes the readiness to let go of attachment.
Extraordinary on a Small Scale
To me Valerie's ability to adapt represented an extraordinary chain of
events. Here was an 8 year old willing to give up her attachment to
something she had for half of her life. In my own life, I have had far more
difficult times with attachment. I have had attachments to objects, to
people, and even, to opinions, as we all do.
I once couldn't stand Elvis Presley; I thought he was a country
bumpkin. One time, 25 years following his death, a TV special about him
showed him discussing his acting ability and he said, "If I were as talented
as James Dean." I stopped in my tracks, I just froze, as Elvis Presley had
used the past conditional, "if I were", which is correct English. Not one
person out of 10 knows that this is correct terminology.
Most people would say, "If I was as talented as James Dean," but "if I
were" is correct because he knew he would never be as talented an actor as
James Dean. All of a sudden I was willing to give up my attachment to have
Elvis be some kind of bumpkin. A small issue you say?
What about the dozens of things at work to which you are attached right
now, many of which impede your ability to embrace new, potentially more
productive ways of thinking and working?
Further on in the special, Elvis was shown going through 28 takes for
one song. Everybody in the studio was saying, "Yeah, we got it, there is at
least one take on the reel that is fabulous." Elvis says something like,
"Wait, we don't have the right version yet." He went on for 35 takes in all,
and later the group selected one of the takes in the 30s!
Reflection
Are you so attached to the way you do things that when you're exposed
to another way you fight tooth and nail? Do you resist trying another way
and gravitate to what you've been doing, even if it doesn't best support
your quest for accomplishment? Maybe it's time to give up the old piano.
