The Habit of Thinking You Make No Difference Posted by my-nasution ,Tuesday, June 23, 2009 at 1:20 AM,

After the initial discussion and excitement over the A subsides, I predict to the students in my Friday class that it will not be long before a voice in their heads will whisper something along these lines:

Why should I bother to go to class today? I already have my A. And I've got so much to do; I really need to practice on my own. Anyway, it's such a large class, he probably won't even notice

I tell the students that this is the first symptom of a widespread disease called "second fiddle-itis," popularly known as "playing second fiddle." People who perceive their role in a group to be of little significance (second violins for example) are particularly vulnerable to its ravages. The string players in an orchestra often see themselves as redundant foot soldiers, virtual cannon fodder for the egoistical whim of the conductor. Many other players, after all, duplicate their part. This is not true for the lead trumped or the main wind players, who are soloists within the orchestra.

A string player just entering a new position in an orchestra will often start off with great enthusiasm, take his part home at night, and continue to do careful and regular practice in his spare time. However, when it begins to dawn on him that his stand partner stopped practicing years ago and that conductor does not seem to care or even to hear when players are out of tune, he too quickly begins to show signs of the onset of the disease.

A first oboist, on the other hand, is unlikely to give up making reeds or to miss a rehearsal. It is simply too noticeable. In all my years of conducting, I do not believe I have ever known a first oboe to be late for a rehearsal. Is it because the oboe has to be there at the beginning to tune everyone to the A?

"So," I tell the class,"the next time you hear the little second-violin melody in your head that says,"I am not going to class because I'm too tired,' or 'I have too much to do, and I know it won't make any difference anyway' remember that you are an A student. An A student is a leading player in any class, an integral voice, and the class cannot make its music without that voice."

One, in Spain, I saw a big sign outside a little shop. It read:

ALVAREZ
Shoemaker
and
Lessons in
Second Violin

I found myself hoping that Alvarez's great humility did not irrevocably limit the aspirations of his students.

However, when I myself had the privilege of playing string quartets with Robert off, the founding second violinist of the Julliard String Quartet, I came away convinced that the real leader of the string quartet is the second violin. Not because Koff dominated the rust of us, but because in his part he had all the inner rhythms and harmonies, and he gave them such clarity and authority that we were all tremendously influenced by his playing. He was leading us from the "seconds". In a truly great string quartet, all four players are doing that simultaneously.

How to Step There Posted by my-nasution ,Saturday, June 20, 2009 at 11:13 PM,

Now we come to the hart of the matter. What is the practice that orients you to a universe of possibility? It is a practice for revealing the hidden framework from which the world of measurement springs, When you see how thoroughly that framework, like the box around the nine dots, rules your life, you will have located yourself in the realm of possibility beyond it. So, first, ask your self:

How are my thoughts and actions, in this moment, reflections of the measurement world?

You look for thoughts and actions that reflect survival and scarcity, comparison and competition, attachment and anxiety. Notice that the question is not,"Are my thoughts......" which is a question of assessment, but, "How are my thoughts....." which is a true inquiry. See how easy it is to argue that you are an exception, that you personally are not governed by any such set of assumptions. This, of coursed, is another example of the measurement world at work.

So when you notice yourself thinking, for instance, that is line of inquiry must apply to men more than to women because men are so competitive, and you recognize that thought as your first bit of evidence that your measurement mind is at work, you ask yourself again:

How are my thoughts and actions, in this new moment, a reflection of the measurement world?
And how now?

You keep asking the question until you finally appreciate how hopeless it is to escape being shaped by the assumptions that underlie all of lie. And then you may begin to laugh. And when someone asks, "How are you?" it may appear to you utterly ridiculous to try to assess yourself, or to express life as a struggle and a burde, and before you know it, the world "perfect" may just pop out. And you will be smiling. For you will have stepped into a universe of possibility.

Of course, you won't have arrived.

The World Of Measurement Posted by my-nasution , at 8:49 PM,

We propose to call our familiar everyday world the "world of measurement" in order to highlight the central position held by assessments, scales, standards, grades, and comparisons. In his story of the everyday, each of us strives for success, hoping to arrive at a better place than where we are. On our path to achieving a goal we inevitably encounter obstacles. Some of the more familiar ones, aside from the people, are scarcities of the time, money, power, love, resources, and inner strength.

All the manifestations of the world of measurement--the winning and losing, the gaining of acceptance and the threatened rejection, the raised hopes and the dash into despair--all are based on a single assumption that is hidden from our awareness. The assumption is that life is about staying alive and making it through--surviving in a world of scarcity and peril. Even when life is at its best in the measurement world, this assumption is the backdrop for the play, and, like the invisible box around the nine dots, it keeps the universe of possibility out of view.

Certain responses are better suited than others to an environment where survival is the issue, all of which are prevalent in the world of measurement. Alertness to danger, a clever strategic min, an eye for assessing friend and foe, a knack for judging strength and weakness, the know-how to take possession of resources, a measure of mistrust, and a good dollop of fear are some of the qualities that will safeguard us. Keeping our armor intact is of critical importance as well, which means resisting any challenge to our personal viewpoint.

We also feel more secure when we can identify objects and determine their location. An indication of this is that the term minefield stands as a universally appreciated metaphor for danger. If feels safer to deal with reality as though it were fixed, as though people, ideas, and situations can be fully known and measured.

We grow up in a world of measurement, and in this world, we get to know each other and things by measuring them, and by comparing and contrasting them. We know a child as compared to other children, a performance of a Puccini aria by a local tenor as contrasted to one sung by Pavarotti, or a company's year-end statement as it stacks up to earlier projections. In order to be in a position to assess, judge, and report on circumstances, the individual stand back, identifying himself, and by extension his group, as separate from others. That opinionated "little voice in the head" is almost always speaking from Measurement Central. Life in the measurement world seems to be arranged in hierarchies: some groups, people, bodies, places, and ideas seem better or more powerful than others. Lines appear, dividing in inside from an outside: some people, races, and organizations are safer and more desirable to belong to than others. There are only so many pieces of the pie.

The dramatic action in this world of success and failure has to do with overcoming odds and prevailing, or being acknowledged and included. Virtually every children's book. every made-for-television special follows the pattern. Competition is the vehicle to success, and metaphors based on competitive sports and war applied to almost any situation. Conversations among friends chronicle personal trials and triumphs. Certain feelings mirror the ups and downs of fortune in the world of measurement: love for our own, for instance, and sympathy for those weaker than we are; fear, anger, and despair at losing; and, of course, the exhilaration of having come out on top.

Just as virtually everybody adds the clause within the square formed by the outer dots to the instructions for the nine-dot puzzle; virtually everybody, whether living in the lap of luxury or in diminished circumstances, wakes up in the morning with the unseen assumption that life is about the struggle to survive and get ahead in a world of limited resources.

"Hey, bring some lines out here!"