I ran across this essay when I was reading our local paper this morning, and it struck a chord with me. So often I find myself feeling guilty about the amount of time I spend on music. It’s “just a hobby.” I’ll never make money from it. I’m no composer, so it’s unlikely I’ll ever leave a great tune or two behind for people to remember me by. I’m no great performer…my singing voice is OK for the choir, and my whistling is fine for my own pleasure or a bit of busking, but nothing more. It’s just something I’ve felt compelled to do since I was a little child. When I neglect it, my life feels out of whack. When I sing or play, even if it’s just working out a new tune on the whistle or struggling to pick out my choral part on the piano, I feel closer to God than at any other time, and I feel that it’s something I’m called to do, though I don’t know, and may never know, exactly why.
I imagine most of us who aren’t professional musicians or instrument makers sometimes feel a little guilty about the time we devote to our “hobby.” There are so many things to do in our day-to-day lives. I know often I’ll look at the stack of dishes to be washed at the end of the day, or the bathroom I’d planned to clean that morning that is still a mess at bedtime, and wonder if it’s really right for me to devote so much time to making music. Then I pick up the whistle and start once again trying to figure out that great tune I heard earlier that day or struggling to get the half-holing just right on that tune that just can’t seem to find a convenient key, and I have no doubt that it’s time well-spent
Thanks, Red. That lifted my burden of guilt somewhat. I totally relate to your post about where this whistling playing fits into my life. I feel like I lost a day out my life if I don’t get in some practice. Occasionally, I’ve thought, if I took a day off whistling, I’d have some extra time to read or rent a video. When the moment of decision comes, I think, “No way am I going to give up practice time to sit in front of tv.” If there’s a 12-step program to cure me of this addiction, I don’t want to know about it.
I liked the thought put forward in the essay about setting priorities. Doing the things that feed your soul really are too important to put off. I practiced whistle a lot back in the '70’s for about 3yrs. Then I got totally got away from it for many years due to school, work, having kids, etc. Can you imagine thinking, on a regular basis for about 20yrs, I’m losing time here, got to get back to it. One day, I felt kind of bummed out and thought, “I used to be passionate about something. I miss that.” I decided to push myself back into practicing regularly and soon, I was hooked again. That was over 6yrs ago. (After about 2yrs of hard core practicing on a feadog, I stumbled across Chiff&Fipple and started blowing money on expensive whistles. Ouch.)
Tony
On 2002-11-23 14:17, TonyHiggins wrote:
Thanks, Red. That lifted my burden of guilt somewhat. I totally relate to your post about where this whistling playing fits into my life. I feel like I lost a day out my life if I don’t get in some practice. Occasionally, I’ve thought, if I took a day off whistling, I’d have some extra time to read or rent a video. When the moment of decision comes, I think, “No way am I going to give up practice time to sit in front of tv.” If there’s a 12-step program to cure me of this addiction, I don’t want to know about it. >
I liked the thought put forward in the essay about setting priorities. Doing the things that feed your soul really are too important to put off. I practiced whistle a lot back in the '70’s for about 3yrs. Then I got totally got away from it for many years due to school, work, having kids, etc. Can you imagine thinking, on a regular basis for about 20yrs, I’m losing time here, got to get back to it. One day, I felt kind of bummed out and thought, “I used to be passionate about something. I miss that.” I decided to push myself back into practicing regularly and soon, I was hooked again. That was over 6yrs ago. (After about 2yrs of hard core practicing on a feadog, I stumbled across Chiff&Fipple and started blowing money on expensive whistles. Ouch.)
Tony
It’s been the same for me. I was passionate about music all through middle and high school, practicing my guitar and my whistle daily, singing in school and church choirs, listening to my favorite albums whenever I got a chance. Then came college, then work, then marriage and a child, and the instruments (as well as, alas, my voice) gathered dust. When my daughter turned two, I got up the gumption to join the choir at church (feeling guilty the whole time over leaving my hard-working dh with a fretful, hyperactive toddler…though in reality, that “daddy/daughter time” was special and important to them too) and, a year or so ago, I once again found my old Generation Eb and started to tootle on it during my scanty “free time.” Nowadays, however, I don’t reserve music for “free time”…I make time for it…and am a better person for it, I think.
Hmmm…it may be heretical for me to admit this here, but playing whistles is not the goop that caulks that leaky spot in my soul.
In my heart of hearts, I admit it now, I’m a typesetter, layout artist, and designer of printed items from business cards through tune books, on up to web pages and now I’m editing and designing a book of tae kwon do forms. It’s the reason I’m up too late and the source of problems I solve in my sleep.
However, it’s not a very social avocation so I get a whistle or flute fix with my guitar-playing friend.
Building Ted’s book is a whole lot more fun than watching TV. I have a few guilty pleasures being broadcast this year, but I tape them and watch them while on the treadmill before I’m really awake in the morning.
Hobby? Nyah. It’s something I can’t not do, like breathing.
I was a writer and editor before I took the mommy track, and it was very soul-satisfying work. I was always grateful that I was able to make a living doing something for which my gifts and inclinations well-suited me.
Music is a different sort of “calling” for me. I can no more stop making music than I can stop breathing (my husband complains that I even hum in my sleep!). But it’s an odd calling, because it’s one for which I can see little “practical” application, at least in my case, since I’m not exactly God’s gift to the world of music (even if music is, in many ways, God’s gift to me ). In many ways, it’s like prayer (even when what I’m singing or playing is just some silly ditty…or a drinking song!).
great article Redwolf..I know exactly how you feel.With 4 kids and Always a sink full of dishes I often feel guilty about stopping and spending time on myself which usually is spent playing around with my whistle..
Interesting article. I’ll have to show it to my wife, who believes in a hierarchy of hobbies. Hobbies (or more properly crafts) which result in a finished, tangible product are inherently more valuable than those that don’t. Knitting, sewing, soapmaking (her hobbies - and occasionally businesses) are productive. Music (my hobby) is not. (At least it wasn’t until the band started making enough money to make the music hobby self sufficient. Now music is better tolerated. )
I’ll always continue with my music. My job is fairly regimented, non-creative, and non-social. Music brings a healthy balance to that.
I’m a grad student and that means that school is my life- don’t get me wrong I love school, but I have to say my whistle is essential to keeping me sane…
when my PhD applications got to be too much, I would pick up my whistle and learn my new song for the week- whenever i can’t get a paper idea or life just sucks in general, I pick up my whistle… my whistle playing I find is now essential.
I shelled out a lot of money (for a grad student) to be taking lessons this fall- and I am so glad I did.. Its the best thing I have ever done…
I have played the classical flute since I was 9- I dabbled a bit in saxophone and xylophone and now whistle is what I play regularily… music for me may not be my life but it is an important part of it… It keeps me going
I read this thread with interest, as a returnee to music after many years, this time with entirely different instruments (folk-dulcimer, whistle, guitar, instead of classical piano) and an entirely new outlook and set of expectations. You all may enjoy a book which I came across, Making Music for the Joy of It, by Stephanie Judy (in print, 1996 Tarcher Press), which offers great encouragement for all “amateurs.” Happy Thanksgiving!
Just kiddin’