The Pattern of My Patterns
I'm a pattern guy. Not just any pattern guy—the pattern guy. My wife would tell you that my patterns have patterns and my routines have routines.
Don't believe me? This newsletter has gone out every Wednesday at 7:00 PT for almost twenty years.
I live for routine.
My day isn't really a day unless it's written down on white legal pads. That's not a typo, PADS - I have three such pads laid out on my desk so I can segment the different aspects of my work, each with its own 8.5 x 14-inch workspace.
Structure is my security blanket. It's my wooby.
Why not use software or a Word doc? Because you can't cross off something on a screen, silly. Seriously, I'm not kidding. That's the reason.
I get such a sense of satisfaction and endorphin rush from crossing things off my list that sometimes, I add things to my list only to cross them off immediately thereafter.
Is this wrong? Am I abnormal? Is there a support group I should be attending? I could write down, "go to support group meeting." and then cross it off after I get there.
Ok, I am starting to see that I might have a problem...
Are you one of us? As you read this, are you drinking the same morning beverage, sifting through the same sites, deleting the same emails, and preparing to conduct the same tune you did for last year's holiday concert (insert Sleigh Ride)?
I am winning at life? Are you winning too? Or, are we just spinning (our wheels)?
In a recent article, (my newest favorite blogger) Scott Clary warns of the dangers of "performative behaviors"—stuff done for show, to feel like progress, or to satisfy external expectations, but without real impact.
He states, "Performative actions are usually surface-level routines or rituals that look good on paper (or social media), but they don't have a real impact."
He contrasts performative behaviors with authentic habits — the ones that might be boring, invisible, or unsexy but actually build momentum and shift your life quietly over time.
The danger is getting stuck in performative loops that feel productive while keeping you from facing the discomfort of real change.
So, "performative" here is like the "busywork" of personal development — the actions without the meaningful motions.
Ruh Roooh! Me thinks he might be talking about me
Look, I find something incredibly comforting about structure. It tricks me into thinking I'm on top of my game—even if I'm really just running in place, doing the same tasks, the same way, at the same time. Sound familiar?
Those neat little patterns I cling to make me feel productive, but not actually beproductive. It's the difference between looking busy and actually moving the needle.
For us music educators, that "pattern addiction" is especially tempting. We get caught up in the ritual of booster meetings, fundraisers, lesson plans, and parent emails—and all the "important stuff" that looks good on paper but might not actually help our students grow.
Students crave routine because it represents comfort and safety, but they remember and are inspired by creativity and bravery.
So here's my challenge: for tomorrow, get comfortable being uncomfortable. Break your patterns—break your patterns' patterns. Try something new. Rehearse in a new way, in a new place, with new techniques. Be brave enough to fail, and do it while smiling.
Trust me, your students will notice. Your colleagues will notice. And most importantly, you will notice.
As I write this, I can see my favorite quote on my bookshelf:
It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.
—Theodore Roosevelt
So, whaddya say? How about tomorrow, we ditch comfort and routines to dare greatly - even just for one class, or one day?
Have a great week!
Scott