The Total Perspective Vortex is a concept from The Restaurant at the End of the Universe by Douglas Adams. It is a device that shows a hapless soul the infinitely vast universe and exactly how infinitesimally insignificant they are in it. In the novel, it’s used as a form of capital punishment, as no one (well, almost no one) has any semblance of sanity once they are exposed to it.
The total perspective vortex I want to talk about though is basically the opposite, despite the fact that I still find myself reeling from its effects. Allow me to elucidate.
Last week I had a sudden flashback to Fall 2011, when I went to the Tritone to see a band called the West Philadelphia Orchestra for the first time. For the past year or so I had been hearing amazing things about this Balkan brass band, and I finally made the time to check them out (damn 9-5 job!). I arrived early to scope the place out, and the band was slowly trickling in. I only knew one member of the band from a gig I had played with him about a year earlier, so when he came in I said hi and reintroduced myself. Just about everyone else was a stranger.
I only stayed for one set, but it was an incredible experience. Their sousaphone player was a powerhouse, and the music itself was challenging, infectious, and fun. I lamented that I could only stay for one set, and also that they already had a killer sousaphonist, so my services wouldn’t be needed.
Flash forward to last week. On Wednesday, I got a call from Larry, one of the baritone horn players in the band, asking if I’d like to play with them on Friday. Of course, Jimmy, the sousaphone player would be on the gig, so I’d be playing as one of the three baritone horns. When the night arrived, several members of the horn section joked that since baritone was the third instrument I had learned the music on (after sousaphone and accordion), maybe I’d like to learn their parts and sub for them.
Clearly, what a difference 2 years make. I had first started subbing on sousaphone in rehearsals and a few shows. Then I filled in on accordion when a few players couldn’t make it. Finally last week, I broke out the baritone and started learning those parts. Along the way, I got to be a part of this amazing group of musicians. In fact, my band Polkadelphia is made up of several members of this group. And hey, they’re all really nice people too (except for this one guy named Duffy…).
Unfortunately, that’s not the total perspective vortex I’m referring to.
Last Tuesday I had just finished a rehearsal with the group, playing baritone for the first time. As I was driving home, all I could think about was how I was not playing the parts well enough, and how much I needed to practice and improve.
Let’s back it up and look at the whole thing again.
2 years ago, I knew nobody and was playing zero shows with them.
2 years later, I know everybody, and am playing consistently with the group.
And all I can think about is how I’m not playing well enough?
I think we found our total perspective vortex.
I know this is a bad habit of mine. For years I was consistently dissatisfied with my tuba playing, ripping myself apart after each show. It really didn’t matter what anyone else said or the kinds of praise I was receiving, I was not living up to my own standards. Even though I was getting consistent work, it didn’t seem to matter.
Interestingly, I found this as a theme in other areas of my life. When I first started working as a software trainer, I was sure I wasn’t good. I dreaded standing up in front of the class every day, sure somebody would call my bluff and reveal that I was a fraud. About 6 months in I won an award for my teaching, and it wasn’t until that point I started to lighten up on myself. Started to anyway.
Around the time I started treating my depression, about 9 years ago, I began to be able to find joy and beauty in the music I was playing. I can’t begin to express the feeling of hearing myself and finally liking what I heard, after so long. Since that time I’ve had relapses and recoveries. It could just be that I’m in need of another recovery at this point.
But how do I do that? I mean, it’s clear that I recognize my perspective is skewed. How do I snap out of the negativity?
Well, acknowledging it and putting it out into the world can help. Thank you blog! Sometimes just hanging your fears out to dry in the sun can take away the that mildewy lack of perspective. Or as Nintendo has taught me:
Beyond that, gathering perspective can be a useful tool. Someone recently told me that as I am climbing this ascent to new and fantastic parts of my life, not to just focus on the peak ahead. Sometimes it’s important to also look back at the paths I’ve already crossed and feel the gratitude and awe at having been able to make it this far. I think my flashback to 2 years ago was my mind’s way of enforcing that idea.
Because while I get anxious and tend to pile on myself, I also feel this immense sense of gratitude for what I have been able to accomplish in my life so far. I’m thankful for the people I love, the abilities I have fostered, and the challenges I continue to encounter.
Hey, you know, maybe they should come up with a holiday where we talk about how thankful we are.