I met my flute mentor nearly twenty-five years ago. At the time, I was a senior at West Chester University disillusioned with the “best teachers’ college in the state” and longing for a master teacher who could help me acquire the skills I needed to be competitive in the music business. I am a late bloomer in every sense of the word and finding a teacher who was a perfect fit was an endless process. I had tried four different people throughout my undergraduate career and although each offered valuable insights, I was not satisfied with my progress. I needed to feel I was improving. When I first played for David Cramer, he picked up his flute to demonstrate a passage, and I saw that he had a sidewinder embouchure like mine. That was my sign he was a perfect fit for me, and, of course, I progressed very rapidly under his tutelage. I studied with him my entire senior year and then in graduate school at The University of the Arts and beyond – a grand total of nine years!

David completely revolutionized my entire concept of music and music-making. I was inspired every time I heard him play. From the very first note, he could raise the vibration of the entire room and could shape a phrase into an exquisite work of art. From him I learned the importance of a beautiful sound, even technique, elegant phrasing and educating oneself. He not only taught me how to approach the flute repertoire, but he also changed my embouchure to a pucker, which allowed me to relax my mouth while I endured the stress of live performance. I was constantly told to “kiss my flute.” As a result of focusing on my airstream or breath, as one does in meditation or yoga, my sound developed more depth, and my finger technique became faster and more even. I analyzed everything I was doing as I played during my marathon practice sessions and corrected everything possible at the time. Developing my sense of artistry took a bit longer, as that really wasn’t something one could analyze with the mind in order to improve. Artistry had to be felt by the heart.

When I performed on stage, I couldn’t think about dropping my jaw or moving my fingers as evenly as possible, although I did both naturally under stress. I had to have the faith to let go and let God. Focusing on my airstream allowed me to focus my mind as well and aided me in touching the Divine. It wasn’t all the analysis that allowed me to be competitive, although it was a part of the finished product. It was the letting go and trusting my higher self that allowed my artistry to shine brighter than my competition. Those lessons and experiences have stayed with me constantly throughout the years.

Very recently, I have had to tap into that wisdom I gained as a flute student. That process of letting go helped me to pen my book, Mirror of the Soul, and it is helping me as I attempt to play some new sports. I have been introduced to bowling and golf, and re-introduced to baseball. As a child, I played whiffle ball and hardball in the parking lot next to my house, and because I grew up in a neighborhood of boys, I developed some decent skills and the desire to be competitive. I bought a beautiful red baseball mitt and a hardball and was playing catch with my boyfriend who, right off the bat, noticed my desire to crush the competition. He was impressed that I actually ran after the ball instead of backing away from it! He’s got me addicted to bowling as well. As with everything else, I have my good days and bad. I try to think about how I release the ball as I aim it down the center of the lane in order to get a strike. Like flute playing, however, too much analyzing is detrimental to the game. In the words of one of my boyfriend’s coworkers, “If you think, you stink.” I have learned to let go as I repeat positive affirmations, and I won two out of four games the last time we were at the lanes.

Golf, however, is more challenging. My boyfriend is an awesome golfer, and he has had me at the driving range twice. I bought myself some beautiful peach-colored clubs because I am enjoying the challenge of learning something new. Making contact with the ball is not as effortless as the pros make it look. Again, too much analysis leads to paralysis, so I am learning to let go and allow my shoulders to swing effortlessly. I am definitely better at putting than driving, but, like everything else, it takes time. Like music, one never reaches perfection in golf. It is more about the journey than the destination.

My boyfriend shared an observation with me as we were driving home from the bowling lanes this week: I am competitive by nature and thus mirror him in that respect. Whether it’s baseball, frisbee, bowling or golf, I play to win, and he tells me there is nothing wrong with that! As a student and freelance professional, I was hated for my achievements, but this man I love has assured me that people don’t like any winner, and it’s nothing personal. Those who really matter, celebrate your accomplishments! I am a competitive flutist as well, but I like to say I don’t have that arrogant competitive attitude. I am confident in my abilities…period! Healthy competition allows one to improve skills and be the best at what one chooses to be. From a professional standpoint, one earns respect and thus desires to further pursue one’s passions! I am ready, I play to win, so bring it on!!!