Expanded Classroom

My time at NYU has been such a profound experience so far. After being out of school for 10 years, it is a joy to learn again, but in a very different way than before. The rigidity of my previous educational experiences have molded me into a rigid, inflexible state.  This time around in school, I feel as if I am awakening to see a very different world as it stands in front of me (well, at least as I see it!). Now, all kinds of boundaries are blurred in places where I've actively sought to maintain them, and I'm growing, despite my fears of blowing the doors off of my comfort zone!

When I arrived at Choga on Tuesday night, I was, frankly, exhausted and cranky.  I had been hosting a conference all day, and was tired and sore from moving timpani, chairs, music stands, and every other kind of equipment between buildings.  On my quest for a PhD, some days have been remarkably harder than others, and this was one of them.  I wasn't sure what to expect.

I've never walked into a class to experience an elaborate spread of artfully prepared food at the ready.  I was touched by the chef and staff's nurturing nature; they insisted that we try so many things (which were amazing), and take home the leftovers. I am especially touched by Dr. Gilbert's incredible hospitality and acumen for creating community.  There truly is nothing like sharing a meal together.  I got to know my classmates on a deeper level, and they are fun, fascinating, accomplished people.

I had such a great time jamming with my classmates, too.  I haven't been able to seriously engage with my saxophone in a very long time, due to the rigorous demands of my coursework.  Even though I almost never like what comes out of my instrument in an improvisatory exercise, I tried to let loose and focus more on the process than the product.  I'm striving to push through my own limitations here.

As I was leaving Choga and walking toward the train, my spirit felt so much lighter: transformed.  This night was a gift.  It is easy to forget about creativity and artistry in my current efforts to make it through each day right now, and I have compartmentalized that part of myself very effectively in this endeavor.  But you can lose something important of yourself in that process, too.  I haven't had a day off since August- and a deep fatigue is settling in.  Somehow, returning to that artistic side of me, and this HUMAN side of musicking with others, even just for 20 minutes, was profoundly restorative.  Perhaps this is the greatest lesson of all this year.

This is how you know the food is good