For (nearly) the last half century I've averaged 45 to 90 minutes of daily practice. Never really felt it was enough to make the kind of progress I thought I wanted to experience, but it did get me through my career to retirement weighing what I did when I began and fit and limber enough to keep doing more or less what I want. Now I don't watch a clock and often practice more than once a day. I probably log between 2 and 3 three hours more or less daily and may be starting to see some of the things I thought I was looking for before—am at least seeing some physiological transformation and recovery from old injuries. It still doesn't feel like enough practice when I look at what there is to learn, but I do find my self wanting to nap too . . . . !
Here's a poem by William Stafford that helped me balance life obligations to find both the freedom and discipline to maintain practice regardless of what else may have been going on. I always found that if I got up early enough I could start the day with some practice--and then, in some way, I was free to integrate practice throughout the day.
"Freedom"
Freedom is not following a river.
Freedom is following a river
though, if you want to.
It is deciding now by what happens now.
It is knowing that luck makes a difference.
No leader is free; no follower is free–
the rest of us can often be free.
Most of the world are living by
creeds too odd, chancy, and habit-forming
to be worth arguing about by reason.
If you are oppressed, wake up about
four in the morning; most places
you can usually be free some of the time
if you wake up before other people.
from
The Way It Is: New and Selected Poems
Copyright 1998 by Graywolf Press
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