Achieving More By Doing Less

It takes less effort to do things well and more effort to do them poorly...I haven't yet mastered this principle in life yet, but I subscribe to it whole-heartedly because of what I have discovered in music.

When I started out playing the piano, I would gasp when watching the speed and fluidity with which great pianists played. "If only I could do that," I thought.

I eagerly took the scales and arpeggios that were given to me by my piano teacher, turned on the metronome, and began to build the velocity that was implicitly promised by the Hannon and Czerny exercises I was assigned.

After a few months I noticed that, even with the correct fingering, after a certain tempo I could not go any faster without building up an increasing amount of tension in my hands--specifically my knuckles and wrists.

It wasn't until years later, after I was shown the structure of the tendons in the hand, that I learned that speed was not so much the result of effort, but a natural result of alignment between fingers, wrists, elbows, shoulders, and torso--all of the areas of physical rotation.

I learned that, as these components of my body moved in harmonious relationship together, there emerged a natural flow to my playing and that a lot less effort was required to produce exponential musical results.

Adding to this realization the principle of recovery, which states that for every action there must be an equal counter-action, such as a reverse rotation of the wrist to the left after an initial rotation to the right, and I began to uncover a great musical secret: it is easier to play correctly than it is to play incorrectly.

Over the past twenty years, I have tested out this concept in as many arenas as I could--cooking, walking, communication...it seems as though I have found a touchstone of any skill, known in some Zen traditions as "effortless effort."

Almost every day I find myself challenged to apply it to a new circumstance where effortless effort is called for: expressing more meaning with fewer words, re-engineering a mundane task from three steps down to two steps, or carefully reading the instructions and assembling the tools before assembling a piece of IKEA furniture.

Another potent musical example is finding the "sweet spot" in the recording studio--where the instrument, the acoustic sound environment, the microphone, the preamp, and the console settings are all working harmoniously together, allowing for the maximum musical punch with the least effort put on the performer and engineer.

Examples of effortless effort are endless.

I will end this post with the koan presented to me by a business mentor, John Eggan, who received it from one of his teachers:

"A student achieves less and less by doing more and more, while a master achieves more and more by doing less and less."

Only Next Steps

I long for the big solutions that would address all of my perceived problems and give me an updated operating system for my life without any bugs or glitches (or baggage or ditches).

But life has shown me that, more often than not, all you get are two points of view: that of where you are and that of where you would rather be. From those two points of view, you have the opportunity to discover and take NEXT STEPS. Even when those next steps seem like leaps or entrances into black holes, they are only next steps on a journey with no clear beginning and no known end.

Even dying doesn't guarantee an end of NEXT STEPS. There is no such thing as final success or final failure in any endeavor. You still wake up after the wrap party or the funeral and wonder what you are going to do next...

This seemingly obvious fact changes everything if you let it. It takes away hope that you will ever complete everything on your "to do" list and it takes away fear that you might have missed the chance to do something really important.

I want to live with the awareness that every moment is a NEXT STEP and let each step carry me closer to my true home.

The First Step (On A Journey of A Thousand Miles)

I have taken the first step on a journey of a thousand miles...in the midst of three snowstorms and with a family of five.

We have pulled up our stakes, left our familiar life in Woodstock, freed ourselves of about two thirds of our material possessions, completed a bunch of projects, and set up a launching pad in rural western Massachusetts (cohabiting with dear friends).

Over the next several months, we intend to plan, prepare, and equip ourselves for an extended family adventure/book tour/homeschooling excursion around the continental US, eventually setting up a new home base.

Cora and I began our relationship over 20 years ago on the open road and we now plan to share the spirit and expression of that freedom with our children. If not now, when?