Jennie Dorris

You too can feed a squirrel if you only work four hours a week!

This morning I started my practice by listening to two right-handed drumstick-hits in a row. I listened to their volume. I listened to how they were spaced within two given beats of the metronome. I listened to how they sounded when they had to artfully dodge my left hand interjecting. Such detailed listening is exciting to me, because it’s the beginning of my practice. I’m warming up my ears, and my hands, and all of this is going to apply later when I try to say something musically.

But partway through my warm-up I found my brain getting distracted (this is nothing new) with the idea of how hard work is viewed today. Specifically, I thought about this article I had read about there being no natural talent, and instead, just how hard, driven work provides success. I also thought about this fellow Tim Ferriss, who is all over the media with his “Four-Hour Workweek.” (And four-hour body. And four-hour chef.)

I’m not sure why anyone would want a four-hour workweek. Isn’t the goal to find the thing that we’re driven to do, and to do it well? Yes, there should be down time (and even days off!), but isn’t that down time more fulfilling when you’ve pushed yourself to your potential all day? What sort of potential are we reaching as a culture if we’re driving ourselves to a hands-off four-hour workweek?

There is a beauty in hard work. I don’t think it’s evil. To my end, it provides discipline for a wandering mind. The joy of my product — playing music — is so much greater than the best beach vacation. I don’t want to be remembered for how efficiently I condensed my work so I could augment my leisure. Naively, I still want to change the world. And I think that might take more than four hours a week.