Wednesday, April 15, 2020

Walking in the footsteps of my father

This is the period of Singapore's COVID-19 lock-down, unusually called "Circuit Breaker", maybe a remnant of the "Uniquely Singapore" branding mindset. In order to keep a healthy mind-body, I go for solo long walks. Usually they are unplanned and I'd just pick a route based on curiosity, wanting to see what I normally miss out while driving, or to explore less familiar places.

I ventured into a route that had been familiar when young but very much bypassed as newer roads served my needs. Canberra Road used to be the only way to get from Sembawang to Woodlands via Admiralty Road West. I recall the long bus rides after mass to get to the old Woodlands Town Centre where there was a large hawker centre, lots of retail shops, and an Oriental Emporium. In those days we still had non-airconditioned buses and I could enjoy the cold evening air at my favourite window seat as the bus sped along the almost deserted expanse of Admiralty, at one point the air would be punctuated by the strong scent of Kikkoman soy sauce.

Sembawang 14 Apr 2020

Canberra Road would have been a familiar path for my father as he used to cycle daily to get to work at the Naval Base, which later became Sembawang Shipyard. It's amazing looking back at how he did it for at least 20 years (my guess) under rain or shine. Unfortunately I never picked up cycling as I had a poor sense of balance.

I recall one time he fell off the bike and landed in a drain but that didn't bring him down a bit. He continued to work for many years after the offical retirement age of 55. Looking back, he's actually rather resilient. He suffered a fall after missing a stair step at a much older age and recovered well, he got into hospital twice for pneumonia and recovered. He continued to have a calm and stable mind, and consumed all foods without having to resort to tube-feeding even in his last days at a nursing home.

His work life and social circles seemed rich; this is a part of him that I could only get glimpses of when he bumps into ex-colleagues and business contacts (he used to be a purchasing clerk). I could see he was well liked and respected. It speaks volumes despite his introversion at home.

I'm grateful that there are some things left untouched by the relentless pace of urbanization. Man seeks changes thinking life can be made better, but life is already good enough if we care to observe and appreciate.

Sunday, April 12, 2020

10,000 Hours


Kōhachirō Miyata 宮田 耕八朗 (81 yrs old in 2019), performing Tsuru no Sugomori 鶴の巣籠

If it takes 10,000 hrs to master something, then that’s equivalent to around 27 years if one practises for an hour each day!

I doubt if that’s the case though having done a career switch 12 years ago to become a therapist. The initial years seemed tough but also exciting as there was so much ground to cover, so much to explore and try out, mistakes to be made and experiences gained.

I believe some possible factors that helped enhance my professional progress can be applied to learning the Shakuhachi:

1. Passion
One needs to have slow burning passion in order to stay on the long learning journey. The initial love is like love at first sight but that won't last very long. So we've to continually find new ways to rekindle that love.

I find the Shakuhachi has a varied personality, at times it sounds like a Sax, at times like a Dizi or Xiao, and other times like the human voice, a bird, the wind. It is a versatile instrument for meditation, ancient tunes, rituals, folk music, anime themes, pop songs, swing, new age, and much more. It opens up endless play opportunities.

Besides the actual sound/music, there's also the history and culture surrounding this instrument. It adds to the sense of belonging to a lineage, a heritage handed down for generations. And for someone who has very little formal music theory, that's also a whole new realm of knowledge.

Other than cognitive exploration, another way to sustain the passion is to immerse ourselves in the experience of the music by attending concerts (rare in Singapore) or watch online performances.

I had benefitted in my professional work from meeting like minded people in an interest group, so communal support is helpful in keeping us engaged in regular conversations and exchanges. The social element keeps us warm.

2. Reflective learning and reflexive practice
Audio and video recordings are often used as supervision tools in therapy, either done with a supervisor or for self reflection. I’d say this is what brought significant learning for myself and also for people that I supervise. It can bring about anxiety initially as we’re afraid to face our shortcomings.

Listening to my own Shakuhachi recording and even sharing with friends to get feedback helps wake me up to reality. Sometimes we’re so engrossed in enjoying the playing that we lose objectivity, such as getting the rhythm wrong, going off pitch, varying the tempo, inappropriate phrasing, etc.

Music making is itself a reflexive process because there is a continuous feedback cycle: we read the score, blow the Shakuhachi, it produces a note, we listen and make fine adjustments to fingering, embouchure, mouth cavity, throat, holding position, body posture, etc. Good playing involves much “listening” both at auditory level and in terms of receiving other signals from touch and sense of body positioning (proprioception).

This is where the term “deliberate practice” becomes important. It’s not that hard to produce a sound on the Shakuhachi so just practising making a sequence of notes is akin to a therapist just meeting clients without any structure or directions. I think the Singapore phrase that fits this is “anyhow whack”, or one can call it blindly practising or going through the motions. Even if one hits 10,000 hrs much of it is wasteful.

3. Enjoyment
Practice involves repetition and the human mind bores easily leading many to get distracted or give up. I guess sometimes we’re too hard on ourselves and push ahead (Singaporean kiasu-ism?) at all cost, which can lead to burn out. This is probably what differentiates passion from purpose.

Do we need to justify a reason for play, leisure, and enjoyment? As a therapist, I see that play is beneficial for people of all ages. For adults, it can be a whole-brain and body engagement free of unnecessary tension. Play can help enhance cognitive functioning and enhance creativity and learning. After all, musical instruments such as flutes were crafted mainly out of leisure when humans were resting and at peace.

4. Teacher
In learning therapy, I found it most appealing when I admire a certain master therapist in the way that he/she works or for their idealogy and vision. This is not idolizing the teacher but being inspired and fascinated by their skills and methods.

A formal teacher in music can offer valuable guidance, so we can avoid common pitfalls and mistakes. And just like a gym partner helping you to spot, a teacher can push you beyond your own perceived limits.

If one can't find or can't afford having a teacher, there is still the self as a teacher. Way before there was recording technology, people would find a reverberation space to practise. The reflected sounds help to enhance the feedback, and makes playing much more enjoyable.

5. Mastery as a journey
Even after 12 years as a therapist I still feel there's much to improve on. The danger is in feeling complacent because we believe we have attained mastery.

To counter this we should consider the wisdom of Morihei Ueshiba, the founder of Aikido: Masakatsu agatsu 正勝吾勝 - true victory is self victory/mastery. So the end goal is somewhat elusive and unattainable. Aikido was not meant to be competitive and I find Shakuhachi can be similar, it's about overcoming our Self.