The Master Class

We sat down fifteen feet away from twin Steinways.  A young, petite woman in a black lace dress sat at one, an older gentleman with wild hair, a blue vest and impressive cufflinks at the other.  She began to play Schumann's Piano Sonata in F#minor Op. 11.  As the final movement ended the room filled with applause. Her performance was fantastic.  

Then he began to quietly speak.  

He asked her to play the beginning of the first movement again.  As she did he began to gently coach her, to draw out music that was not there before.  He didn't use musical terms to guide her; they were both beyond the music on the page.  "You must have a third ear listening in the balcony.  Play to that ear."  "The piano is an imperfect instrument, so we must fool ourselves and play what isn't there." My favorite was, "We all have our missed notes, but this piece invites danger."  

When she played it was beautiful.  When he played it felt transcendent.  

He was a master.  The music was in his DNA.  Over the decades it had seeped down to the mitochondrial level.  At this depth of knowledge he was able to rearrange the soul of the piece and bring new life to already beautiful art. 

Not everyone makes beautiful music, but we are all called to make our world a better and more beautiful place.

Take a moment and think through your response to these prompts.  Write down your thoughts.

1. One way I can improve my craft is __________________. 
2. One step I can take to do so is ____________________.
3. A Master I can seek out for guidance is ___________________.  
4. Who can I gently coach and help bring out what they did not know was there?

Put Me In Coach!

When Alabama wins a championship people across the state go nuts.  The city of Tuscaloosa shuts down.   People in the stands are jubilant.  The football team runs across the field screaming hugging anyone in sight.  Nick Saban, the head coach, claps his hands a few times, jogs across the field, congratulates the other coach and then begins to prepare for the next year.  When interviewed he will typically respond, "I'm just so proud of the team.  They persevered and came through with a great win against a great team."  Ironically, the person who has the most responsibility for the championship title is, at least outwardly, taking the least credit.  That's because he's the coach and he understands his role.  

Here are three lessons from coaching to help move you down the field.

1. A coach has a clear vision of where the team needs to go and how they will get there.  Do you have a clear understanding of where the people around you are heading?  Where does your family need to be this time next year?  Do you have a plan to help guide them down that pathway?
2. A coach has mastered the game.  Have you done the work of knowing yourself, of facing your own issues?  Do you have something to offer others?  You cannot give water to thirsty people if you don't have a well from which to draw.
3. Your greatest success is when others succeed.  This seems counterintuitive, but the most fulfilling and life-giving experience you can have is to help those around you become who they were created to be.   Imagine a world in which everyone helped each other reach their greatest potential!