or:
A jack of all trades, but a master of none.
Since about middle school, this phrase has haunted me. I didn’t want to admit it, but I have held myself back from doing other things because I wanted to be a master of something. Why do I have to be a master of just one thing anyway? Why must I be a master, to begin with? While I think I understand that the sentiment means to be the “best” at something, it still never sat well with me. I have fixated my focus on this idea for years, getting sidetracked along the way (and rightfully so, I think).
I’ve always found that I’m good at a few things, and I’m only adding to the feathers in my cap. I was speaking with one of my close friends, Theo the other day, and he helped me understand things a little differently.
Me: “You know how I feel about being a jack of all trades and a master of none.”
Him: “But Herb, what’s wrong with being a jack of all trades? A great producer has to be. You know how to pull out certain things out of an artist, or how to get [an instrumentalist] to articulate things a certain way.”
Me: “Hmm. I never thought of it that way. That makes perfect sense.”
Hmm. I never saw it that way before. My understanding has increased as result of that conversation. I have greater clarity. It brings to mind the saying,”We are the sum of our experiences.” In other words, not one ounce of my experiences will be wasted.
They will all be used for my benefit. I have greater inner peace now. This will make me a master of many.
Being a jack of all trades could develop me into a master of many.
Until next time,
Love & Peace.
just a man, I can fall back on the many fallacies of being “just” a man.
I find that life is cyclical. Maybe there was something that had to happen, a lesson that had to be learned or an impart of wisdom. After that exchange occurred, alas, the dance was over (and with it, the friendship). There’s nothing wrong with reminiscing on the good times of the last dance. The problem is continuing to dance after the music has stopped and your partner has left. That makes you look, well, crazy. I’m not sure that’s what was meant by the expression, “dance as if nobody’s watching.”
Through this relinquishing of wills, you allow someone else to lead for a while. You may step on each other’s feet, but that’s normal. Do you keep dancing? Certainly. But do you keep dancing seeing as though the song has long since ended? If you’re enjoying the company, you will. If you’re not [enjoying it], you can feel like you’re in limbo, like a staring contest: you’re just waiting out the other person to see if they will blink [stop dancing] first. Sometimes, we put ourselves through that agony, but for what? So we can prove that we were the better friend? To prove that we lasted until the end? That we have endurance? We can sum this up in one word: loyalty. Lemme tell you that loyalty will cause you to endure hardship, sometimes to your own detriment. I’m at an expert level when it comes to doing things in the name of loyalty; even if it’s been self-inflicted.
Happiness. Happiness is the only word I can use to describe that night. For a split second at the airport (en route to Charlotte), I thought, “Is this totally crazy? Like, what gives you the right? This is just a little crazy.” Nevertheless, I went.
Recently, a dear friend named Arthur was opening a new studio named 
Being on the drumline in college remains near the top of my list of “things I’ve had the best time doing.” I loved every minute minute of it. I was in some of the best shape of my life. Whenever I felt tired, I told myself to push past it. Those and many other lessons have shaped my thinking and work ethic to this day.
