January, 2024

There's energy in the air, and I don’t mean the weather system moving into the Northeast. 

It feels like the gathering of a different kind of power.  And I’m pretty sure I know what it is. 

Dozens of the best musicians in the world are descending on Boston, preparing to audition for the principal flute position with the Boston Symphony Orchestra. By the time you read this, there’s a good chance one of them will have been chosen as my successor.

The vision, discipline, and courage of these artists takes my breath away. Day after day they will have prepared — challenging themselves to grow, refine, and strengthen their abilities. Many will have worked straight through the holidays, sacrificing time with loved ones, working to remain inspired and focused, determined and driven. 

As they prepare, these artists will be doing one of the hardest things we can attempt as humans: trying to see ourselves clearly. 

They will have asked “Am I hearing myself accurately?” “Am I persuaded by what I’m creating?” “How could this be better?” “Is it enough?” “How can I know that I’ll deliver when the time comes?”  They will have turned to peers, mentors and coaches for perspective. 

And then the day will arrive when the preparation stops and they will stand alone, onstage at Symphony Hall, giving everything they have.

For me, preparing for auditions was always an intensely vulnerable process. Leaving no stone unturned in this way is emotionally demanding and takes courage.

All that desire, discipline, sacrifice, stamina, vulnerability … plus world-class excellence. THIS is what I’m sensing in the air. It’s deeply inspiring to me, and I have profound admiration and respect for every one of those musicians. 

For most, their work will culminate in just a few short minutes onstage. For all but one, this process will ultimately end in disappointment. (Maybe a little disappointment, maybe a lot.)

How each of these artists experiences that disappointment will vary tremendously. And that difference will depend a lot on how they relate to the audition — does the outcome influence how they see themselves as artists and as humans? Does the result of this audition define them? Does it mean something fundamental about them and their innate value? Is the winner of this audition an inherently “better” person or artist in some definitive way?

In a wildly subjective field, it seems crazy that we would hand over our sense of self-worth to an anonymous audition committee after just six minutes of listening. 

And yet, for many musicians, the outcome of a big audition like this can feel defining.  

And these flutists aren’t alone. This is true for plenty of folks outside the arts, too. Maybe even for you? 

There’s a lot more to say about this, but for now I invite you to take a breath, and then take in these words:

To all those disappointed flutists: you are more than this audition. 

To the fantastic winning flutist: you are more than this audition and this new title. 

To all of you: You are the exact same person and artist today as you were last week. This does not define you. 

YOU get to decide what defines you. 

YOU get to decide that you are far more than what could ever be measured at an audition (or whatever version of “audition" exists in your world.)

(You might want to take another deep breath, maybe two, and read all of that again.)

Trust me, I know: this is not an easy concept, and our culture works against us in big ways. 

This I also know: learning how to separate our self-worth from our job titles is a worthy goal. There’s enormous freedom when we can cultivate a belief system that doesn’t define us by external “wins”  — and this holds true whether or not we walk away as the “winner.”

PS — I speak about this and more on a recent 40-minute episode of the wonderful Sound Mind podcast.  Listen to it here.