In the summer of 2010 Jung heard about the Seattle Composer’s Alliance and the Pacific Northwest Film Scoring Program (PNWFS). At the time I had been getting back to music composition, but I was struggling because I was trying to do it on my own. It had been years since I studied composition, so I felt rusty and unfocused. I entered the PNWFS night course because the class time was convenient and I was intrigued. When I was a student I only wrote music for the concert hall. I wondered how this might differ.

Since that day, each class has made me feel more-and-more like I had finally found my true musical home. In retrospect, writing this past composition assignment actually took a lot out of me. I can tell from the amount of sleep I’ve required since completing it, but the deep joy I experienced writing that music is beyond any I’ve had before, including performing in Jordan Hall at the New England Conservatory. It is clearer than ever that I am truly doing what I am meant to do and that knowledge fuels my confidence.

I am well aware that I need to broaden my musical vocabulary considerably in order to do well in this profession. I need to become a faster and more fluent composer. I have much work ahead of me to become that composer, and yet because of my growing passion, I am not daunted. For the first time in a long time I am excited to work hard and learn. For the first time in a long time I realize that I have no need for Will Power on this journey. The harder I work, the more joy I feel and, answering my question from the end of my Day 1 post, that is my motivation!

When I think back to my college days, I remember debating for a long time taking a “practical” course on music and film which was co-taught by Ivan Tcherepnin of the Department of Music and a professor from the Department of Visual and Environmental Studies at Harvard. In many ways, I felt called to take the course. I had already studied with Ivan and liked his approach, plus the idea of teaming up with another student to create a film project together sounded like a lot of fun, but I didn’t take it because I didn’t know how it was going to help with my academic career at the time.

And that was the phrase in my head: ”It would be a lot of fun, but…”

Jung and I have mentioned before that the word, “should” has become something of a red flag for us. Whenever we feel like we should do something, it’s often a warning that we’re answering someone else’s expectation other than our own. Worse, it may be an expectation that we imagine someone else has of us. We now point out to each other when we say “I should” and look deeper to inquire whether it is truly something worth our precious life energy.

Back in college, when I said, “It would be a lot of fun, but…” what I was saying was, “I shouldn’t.” This proscriptive partner to should begs equal inquiry. Why shouldn’t I? Sometimes “I shouldn’t” because although it is tempting, it goes against one of my core values. Maybe “I shouldn’t” because whatever it is will conflict with something that is more desirable. Often, though, like in college, “I shouldn’t” because it doesn’t seem practical. It looks like a “mere diversion.” Something that would be fun, but won’t help me advance along my prescribed path. (One which, in my case, I ultimately abandoned because the academic path was not sustainable for me.)

Like Steve Jobs’ calligraphy class, I didn’t know how important composing music for media would be to me in the future. In this case, I look back, and I see that the trail of dots could have taken a more direct route, if only I had left off the word, “but.” If I had responded to the class listing with “It would be a lot of fun!” Come to think of it, the word “but” is a word that Jung and I began to pay close attention to years ago. It began with a suggestion in a parenting book long forgotten and for me it’s been reinforced by advice for role-players. There are many times when “and” can be substituted for “but” in eye-opening and life-expanding ways! I highly recommend experimenting with using “and” instead of “but” in your speech, and experiencing what happens!

In Mary Oliver’s poem, “The Summer Day”, I feel that she gets the essence of this dichotomy between what our souls seem to know is right instinctively (“It would be fun”) and the influence of external expectations (“but…”). It is summed up in the last four lines which are a response to her having lived a day following the desire of her true self:

Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

If “it sounds fun,” then do it! If you don’t, you’d better have a darn good reason not to, and that reason had better be heartfelt. Don’t dismiss fun as easily as I did back in college. After all, “what is it you plan to do / with your one wild and precious life?”