From the start, more than two years ago, he has been telling me to put myself into the notes that I play, and I have been struggling with that metaphor.
In a way, it's no different from the general message of Buddhist meditation. One should always put oneself into where one is and what one does.
My teacher also speaks of being aware of reality while one is playing, being attentive to what comes out of the flute and also to what one is putting into the instrument, and how (the quality of the breathing, the vibrato, the shape of one's lips, the tension in one's fingers, how one is standing and holding the instrument, and so on). This is clearly another way of saying that one should put oneself into the notes one plays.
His main criticism of my playing is what I might call timidity. I want to avoid making mistakes, so I don't take chances. I hold back and don't play with confidence. (Naturally, at the beginning, when I was never sure whether a note would come out of the instrument at all, I lacked self-confidence, but by now I am closer to being able to produce a reasonable sound every time I play a note, so I should get past that timidity.)
At my last lesson he told me that my alter-ego should be playing, because playing a musical instrument is one of those rare opportunities that life gives one to express what one ordinarily keeps under wraps.
This not an easy instruction for me. I am in fact not big on alter-egos. I'm not an actor by nature, though I could think of a few situations where I do let my alter-ego do the acting: mainly when I participate in religious services.
So, this morning, I decided to imagine an alter-ego who could play for me. I was very surprised by the figure that appeared in my imagination, not Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull, but large, rather corpulent man in a tuxedo, light on his feet and very assertive. This morning he didn't play much better than I do, but he has potential.
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