A curious young boy asked a wise man to explain the meaning of life. The wise man handed the boy a spoon and poured three drops of oil into it. "I will gladly explain the meaning of life if you are able to complete this challenge: You must explore my entire estate without losing a single drop of oil from the spoon." Step by careful step, eyes fixed on the spoon, the boy slowly made his way through the entire castle and its gardens. Hours later, he returned to the wise man and, still staring at the spoon, exclaimed, "I've done it! I've done it! I didn't spill any oil at all!" The wise man smiled and softly asked, "And what did you see along the way?" Puzzled, the young boy thought back on his journey and realized that he couldn't remember anything except staring at the spoon. The wise man spoke once more, "You must try again, but this time, I want you to take in everything around you. Don't simply walk through my estate, explore it!" The young boy walked away once more.
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When I first began my 1000-hour quest, I thought that success or failure would be determined by how much I would be willing to sacrifice. How early would I be willing to wake up to start my daily routine? How many nights would I be willing to spend alone? What other interests would I have to put on hold in order to make time for guitar? It is true that I have made some of those sacrifices in order to insure the successful completion of my journey. I almost always have at least 2 hours of practice time completed before I eat lunch, and there have been some weeks in which I haven't spent a single night out with my dudebros. Wikipedia, which I have been passionately editing for the past 5 years, now finds itself on the back-burner.
However, it is becoming apparent to me that blindly cutting everything out my life is both impossible and highly undesirable. Last week, my best dudefriend invited me to join him on an epic all-day kayaking adventure; the next day, I was ordered by my matriarch to clean the upstairs bathroom; this entire weekend was reserved for a surprise birthday celebration in New York City for a close friend from college. As tempting as it was to just activate hermit crab mode and stay in my room, I did each of these things without hesitation, as they were all completely necessary in their own way. I look forward to paddle-powered aquatic shenanigans every summer, and it was simply not an option to let this adventure pass me by just because of my practice goals. As much as I absolutely detest the clubbing scene (to the point that I almost had a panic attack while dancing at a ridiculously overcrowded gay bar), I was happy to set aside my own preferences this weekend for a woman who has done the same for me countless times in the past. And cleaning bathrooms just fucking sucks, plain and simple, but I concede that it is something that should be done from time to time.
More so than any other part of my challenge thus far, Week 8 has taught me that the key to success is not the arbitrary excision of those elements that do not directly relate to music, but instead being able to balance my central goal with the other necessities in my life. I suppose this is probably true for any aspiration, but I think the idea of balance is especially important for artistic pursuits, as one must not let the time spent reflecting on one's experiences overrun the time spent having experiences that are worth reflecting upon. Jamming and songwriting have always served to help digest those experiences that have shaped me as an individual. This may seem obvious for songs with lyrics, but it is also true for instrumental pieces. This is not to say that there is always a one-to-one correlation between events and musical riffs; it's not as if I say to myself, "Oh boy, I can't wait to write a song about scrubbing shit particles off of my toilet." Instead, there is a sort of general connection between the range of emotions I have recently felt and the range of melodic ideas that appear in my music.
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The boy eventually returned to the wise man, his face covered in dirt, flower petals in his hair, and a half-eaten scone in his hand. "Well! It looks like you've had a fun time, eh?" asked the wise man, playfully. The boy nodded, happily munching on the treat he had pilfered from the kitchen. "And where is the oil?" asked the wise man, sternly. The boy slowly swallowed his last bite as a look of sheer panic ran through his eyes. He looked down at the spoon in his hand, casually hanging down at his side without a single drop of oil in it. "As you now know, it is easy enough to focus on the spoon, and it is easy enough to focus on the world around you. The meaning of life lies in one's ability to do both."
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Week 8 total: 24 hours
Grand total: 185.5 hours
Required pace: 154 hours (+31.5)
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