Coordination

When was the last time you experienced a remarkable Ah-Ha moment? A split second realization, “Finally I did it.”

Complete satisfaction when at long last you burst into song,

“Incredible! That’s how it’s supposed to feel.”

It’s when everything finally synchronizes. Left hand, right hand, fingers, muscle control, touch, motion, emotion, harmony, and ecstasy.

Caught ya . . . I know what you're thinking. You’re not even close!

However, this morning, during my daily guitar practice I finally achieved the proper touch and combination of physical movement and emotional equanimity that allows a musician to “tickle the frets and achieve nirvana.”

“What?”

Well, it’s a long story. I’ve tried to explain it many times since I’ve started playing guitar. Like most amateurs, I concentrate so hard to achieve a clear, clean sound by squeezing the frets that my fingers hurt. As a result, it's tough to consistently coordinate my alternate picking synchronized with fretting.

But this morning everything just seemed to flow . . . equipoise. My digits gently danced across the frets. Crisp chord changes, effortless running of the scales, and toe-tapping bluegrass licks over the G and C Chords. What an exhilarating feeling of triumph.

During a live performance, have you ever studied an accomplished guitar player? They make it look so effortless. Ask them some time,

“What’s your secret?”

“Practice,” they say.

“Practice what?”

“You know . . . work on your scales.”

Frustrated I’m thinking, “Can you be just a little more specific.”

And finally, you get it, that moment of delight arrives. You smile so big you could eat a banana sideways. It’s the one thing a seasoned guitar player or the finest instructor cannot quantify - coordination.

So, what is it really that brings all this together? I hate to say it. It sounds so patronizing - “Practice!” Persistent, consistent, imperturbable effort.”

Simply put it’s a combination of habit, relaxation, and the absolute joy of being "in the field" at that moment.

I’ve always loved that metaphor from the movie, The Legend of Bagger Vance,

“Fix your eyes on Bobby Jones - feel that focus, he’s in the field.”

“Don’t think about it, seek it with your hands. Feel it.”

Equipoise, balance, coordination. That’s how it’s supposed to feel.

This is Patrick Ball, thanks for listening, see you in the next episode.

Comments

Night Before Christmas

I n this episode, Night Before Christmas . . . (In the spirit of Edgar Albert Guest) I’ve wrestled with the tangled lights the way I always do— With just enough patience left to see the project through. I climb the ladder carefully; the years have taught me how. To take my time with every step and keep a steady brow. We hang the faded ornaments I’ve known since I was small, the chipped, the cracked, the tilted ones—I love them best of all. Santa’s lost a bit of paint, the stars’ leaning right, but oh, it casts a holy glow across the room tonight. The kitchen hums with activity, with laughter, and with cheer, as voices drift like echoes from a long-forgotten year. The floor is strewn with paper scraps, the clock is ticking slow, As Christmas finds its own sweet pace and sets our house aglow. The hallway grows a little still; the lights are dimmed, and low, Small shoes are lined in messy pairs to wait for morning’s snow. The fire's warm, the room is full, the world is deep and wide,...

Un-Work the Old-Fashioned Way

🎩 In this special episode. How to Un-Work the Old-Fashioned Way It’s 2026! Yes— this is the year! A different kind of start—you feel it right here? No lists! No demands! No fix-all-your-flaws! No “New You by Tuesday!” No rules! No laws! Those resolutions? Bah! Dusty and dry! We’ve tried fixing everything —so let’s ask why. Why rush and correct and improve and compare, When noticing quietly gets you right there ? So here’s a new project—no charts, no clocks, No boxes to check in your mental inbox. It’s bigger than busy and smaller than grand, It’s called Un-Working —now give me your hand! Un-Working’s not quitting or hiding away, It’s setting things down that shout “Hurry! Hey!” The hustle! The bustle! The faster-than-fast! The gotta-win-now or you’re stuck in the past! That’s the work of Un-Working— plop! —set it free! The titles! The labels! The “Look-At-Me!” The crown that kept sliding and pinching your head— You never looked comfy . . . let’s try this instead: Pick up a tel...

The Thought Experiment–Revisited

In this episode. The Thought Experiment–Revisited The Boy on a Light Beam In 1895, a sixteen-year-old boy did something we rarely allow ourselves to do anymore. He stared into space and let his mind wander. No phone. No notes. No “Optimization Hacks” for his morning routine. Just a question: What would happen if I chased a beam of light—and actually caught it? That boy was Albert Einstein . And that single act of curiosity—a Gedankenexperiment , a thought experiment—eventually cracked open Newton’s tidy universe and rearranged our understanding of time itself. Not bad for an afternoon of daydreaming. Imagine if Einstein had been “productive” instead. He would have logged the light-beam idea into a Notion database, tagged it #CareerGrowth, and then promptly ignored it to attend a forty-five-minute “Sync” about the color of the departmental logo. He’d have a high Efficiency Score—and we’d still be stuck in a Newtonian universe , wondering why the Wi-Fi is slow. In a post I wrote back in...

Boy on a Beam

In this special bonus episode, Boy on a Beam. In a world long ago, when the days moved quite slow, Before buzzes and beeps and the fast things we know, A boy sat quite still on a very fine day, Just staring at nothing . . . and thinking away. No tablets! No gadgets! No screens shining bright! No earbuds stuck in from morning till night. No lists, no charts, and no chores to be done. He just sat there thinking—that's quiet-time fun! His name was Young Albert. He sat in his chair, Thinking of things that weren’t really there. “Suppose,” said Young Albert, with eyes open wide, “I ran super fast with my arms by my side! Suppose I ran faster than anyone knew, And caught up to sunshine that zoomed past me—too! If I hopped on its back for a light-speedy ride, What secrets would I find tucked away deep inside?” “Would stars look like sprinkles, all shiny and small? Would UP feel like sideways? Would BIG feel like Tall?” He giggled and wondered and thought, and he dreamed, Till his head fel...

On The Fly

Search This Blog