As a young person at music school, I lived 1800 miles from home. It seemed like a big leap, jumping from High School to accept a full scholarship to a music trade school. Another leap raised me to start as an 18-year-old sophomore. We are taught, especially in the arts, to be inspired and dream big. But to compose a symphony, we must start with a simple motif. The truth is this. It is in the small steps that creative genius arrives. When we make a leap, we either fall into the chasm or pay for it on the other side. You can’t expect to rise too fast. Like good bread making, the dough slowly rises in a little heat. Are you ready for the heat?
I would play through several of Bach’s chorales every single day, among other habits. All of my efforts trained my ear and solidified my composing skills. But this started when I decided that playing piano and learning jazz music theory inspired me more than playing ball or riding my bike. Lessons upon lessons lasting less than an hour added up. I took independent study and as a high school junior, passed the Advanced Placement Music Theory exam. Each hour of study raised a 16-year-old to college proficiency in music theory. What seemed like a leap resulted from small steps, like the bread dough patiently rising in the oven.
What seemed like a giant leap as I entered music school was an illusion. Reality is not as exciting. It was the incremental consistency of study and the passion to stick with it that catapulted me. Of course, once at a music trade school, you are simply among peers. Talent in music wasn’t rare there. But I earned a few meals from correcting music theory issues on fellow student’s assignments. I also earned the heat of resentment for being the youngest sophomore and youngest pupil around. The rigor of music juries, competition for placement in performing groups, and high expectation from instructors humbled the strongest of us. It took little steps to endure.
In the creative process, all that I have shared is really the underground first steps. We call this the preparation phase. Before I could earn money as a vocalist or pianist, I had to prepare for many years. We take little steps when no one is looking or cares. We likely offend with singing off key at first. In the long run, it is small iterations and improvements that make our creations stand out. Like the many music lessons I endured, our honing of skill gives us the platform to achieve what might look like a leap—at least to those looking from the outside. But creative people know well the truth.
In Steven Spielberg’s The Fablemans, young Sammy is nearly traumatized by a graphic movie scene of a wreck involving a car and train. Sammy is obsessed with figuring out how the filmmaker created the scene. With some effort and many failures, he accomplishes reproducing the film’s scene, using the family’s movie camera. I felt like Sammy when I heard a girl in middle school sing at chapel. Hormones made me notice her, but when she sang, I fell in love with singing and quit band to join choir. One, I got to be around the girl. Two, I began trying to reproduce the act of singing—the kind that moved people like it moved me. Sammy became a filmmaker. I became a singer-musician. And it wasn’t the leap or sudden launch that got either of us there. It was all in steps no one ever cares to mention, celebrate, or count.
What small steps can you take for your next project, business, or dream?