BlakeAtwood.com

“Is your religion helping you to transform your pain? If it does not, it is junk religion. We all have pain—it’s the human situation, we all carry it in a big black bag behind us and it gets heavier as we get older: by betrayals, rejections, disappointments, and wounds that are inflicted along the way.

If we do not find some way to transform our pain, I can tell you with 100% certitude we will transmit it to those around us. We will create tension, negativity, suspicion, and fear wherever we go. Both Jesus and Buddha made it very clear to their followers that “life is suffering.” You cannot avoid it. It is no surprise that the central Christian logo became a naked, bleeding, suffering man. At the end of life, and probably early in life, too, the question is, “What do I do with this disappointment, with this absurdity, with this sadness?” Whoever teaches you how to transform your own suffering into compassion is a true spiritual authority. Whoever teaches you to project your doubt and fear onto Jews, Muslems, your family, heretics, gays, sinners, and foreigners, or even to turn it against yourself (guilt and shame) has no spiritual authority. Yet these very people have often preached from authoritative pulpits.”

– Richard Rohr, The Authority of Those Who Have Suffered

HT: Zach at Finding Rhythm

In thinking more about pursuing drumming in a way I haven’t done before, I’ve given more thought to those players that I admire. Should any of these guys run across this post, please don’t take offense at your placement. I’ll have no qualms bumping you up the list should you contact me.

• 10. Darren King, MuteMath
  

  Have yet to see him live, but any drummer that has to duct tape headphones to his head has to either have serious chops or a muscle control problem. It’s most of the former, as far as I know. Wikipedia says he’s “well known for intense drum beats that showcase a vast amount of energy.”

• 9. Will Champion, Coldplay
  

  Steady. Deceptively simple yet evocative. As with all those in this list, he’s a perfect fit for the band he’s in.

• 8. Keith Moon, The Who
  

  Some might think, “Really, Moon is this low?” Well, I’m not well aquainted with The Who oeuvre, but I know he had the chops. And have you heard about the Keith Moon biopic staring Mike Myers?

• 7. Larry Mullen, Jr., U2
  

  A working-man’s drummer. Steady as a rock. Never overplays. Does exactly what is necessary. In some respects, he reminds me of Ringo Starr: the bedrock player for the world’s biggest band.

• 6. Taylor Hawkins, Foo Fighters
  

  A quintessential rock drummer. A perfect blend of simple complexity. Aggressive without being overbearing. Just knows how to rock.

• 5. Stewart Copeland, The Police
  

  A musician, then a drummer; a rare breed indeed. Purposefully and tastefully plays nearly anything that isn’t four-on-the-floor, snare-on-two-and-four kinds of beats. Inimitable.

• 4. John Bonham, Led Zeppelin
  

  Because no respectable drummer can make a list like this and not include Bonzo. A drummer to be emulated (at least stylistically).

• 3. Dominic Howard, Muse
  

  Fat. Powerful. Heavy. Orchestral. Emotive. Impressive. The more I listen, the more I want to be that kind of drummer. And possibly placed so high in the list because he’s a recent influence.

• 2. Carter Beauford, Dave Matthews Band
  

  Carter was one of my early drumming heroes. One of the most technically skilled drummers in the business. He plays busy, but it works perfectly as part of DMB. I always have and always will marvel at his abilities.

• 1. Brandon Graves, Waterdeep
  

  [Upper left in photo] You probably haven’t heard of Brandon. The first time I ever heard him play a solo, on Waterdeep’s Live at the New Earth, I was sure I was going to quit playing drums because I couldn’t imagine ever being that good. Alternately, I thought he might have been a multi-armed Hindu deity, until seeing him perform live. (He’s not). To me, his style, technical proficiency, and flat-out ability to rock are what I aspire to.

I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere in the last few years I lost my love for playing music. I lost the thrill and the joy that comes from creating something entirely new from nothing, from stewing in a jam until it boils into something delicious.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve played drums for worship services for a very long time now and have enjoyed it, but there’s something about playing other people’s music that stifles creativity. In other words, I don’t think I’d do well for the long haul in a cover band.

But it was a Coldplay concert about a month ago that kicked me in the face with reality. I can do that, I thought. And why not? What’s holding me back?

For the longest time I doubted myself, thinking I could never be good enough to play in a band, on the weekends, out in public, despite the words of praise received from others (to which I would just shake my head and think, You must not know any good drummers then).  Then I recalled: I play for about 1500 people every week. I’ve played for almost 14 years. And if I weren’t getting the picture, a large swath of disparate musical friends started asking me, separately but all within the recent same time period, “We need to get together and play.”

And a spark lit an ember.

The possibility of making music, the re-engagement of that feeling I had when playing, the hope of making more of this gift… it made the future bright. And I find myself listening to music with a new appreciation, with a motivation to practice (which I’ve seldom had before), and with a certain amount of giddiness, like the first time I ever wailed on my first set.

A group of musicians (and friends) are hopefully getting together this Friday, simply to play music. No agenda. No purpose. Just fun. Just music. And we’re hoping to make a regular thing of it. (And if you want to join in, leave a comment). In thinking about who to invite, I realized I know a lot of good musicians. That has to mean something, right?

And other events are occurring that make me think I’m on the right path, things that might make that ember blaze. But that’s all I can say right now about that…

To close: Find an outlet for the thing that cries to be released from your heart, no matter if it’s part of your job or not. Paint if you have to paint. Write if you have to write. Take photos if you have take photos. Find your outlet. You have too little time left not to.

Then again, if most local newscasts were as unwittingly hilarious, I might watch them more often.

For as long as I can remember, I believed that biblical humility, i.e. putting others before yourself, meant downplaying your own talents and abilities. In some strange way, I believed that thinking I was better at something than someone else, and rightfully asserting as much, was an undesirable character trait for a self-professed Christian. I never wanted to be seen as arrogant, or selfish, or condescending. Granted, I can be all of those, and have been, but I far too often erred on the side of false humility. It was this false humility that led to a lessening of self-worth, as if I consciously desired to increase my insecurities.

But the revelation I had is that my false humility is actually grandiose arrogance, hubris in its highest and most deceitful form. In declining to assert my talents, I’m essentially telling God that what He’s given me to work with isn’t good enough. Or, like the third person in the parable of the talents, I’m too lazy to make use of what’s been given me. If I agree that God’s gifted me in some specific way, then I have to hone that skill, and honing takes daily, dedicated work. If I agree that there are a few things in life that I’m good at, then there’s a mounting inner pressure to do something of worth with those gifts.

So if I seem a little more prideful, take me to task and ask me exactly how I’m exercising and using the talents within me.

By the way, what keeps you from fully utilizing your talents?

{This post is indirectly descended from The War of Art, an excellent book by Steven Pressfield, in which he more fully describes the exact things that prevent us from using our talents}.