Ease up, brain. Please.

So how is it, after nearly 15 years of playing my instrument for many thousands of hours, my bad habits seem to resolve around the same axis of self-defeating tendencies?  Well, I know the answer to that, because doing anything at the highest level is difficult, nearly impossible it seems on some days.  And if I wasn't getting in my own way, who else would?  Classical music is like sports in many ways, but we don't have opponents, at least not in the mano-a-mano sense of opposition.  Someone's got to make things harder than they need to be, and that someone is me.  Of course everyone deals with this in all aspects of life, at least aspects of life where you want to try hard and succeed.  For me, it starts with wanting not to screw up.  A simple, understandable wish.  And then not wanting to screw up so bad that I clench my toes and furrow my eyebrows and glare at a piece of sheet music until I look like one of those scary World's Strongest Men men who pull trucks and throw logs and arm wrestle each other until their ulna snaps.  *shudder...*

But why?  Why do I make things harder for myself?  Why does anyone throw obstacles in their own way when the path has been illuminated multiple times?  It's not because I like "working hard," in the straining against everything that's meant to be easy manner of doing things.  And it's not even because I like punishing myself.  I guess it's because I forget that, in pretty much every aspect of my musical training, I am the enemy.  By "I" I of course mean the cerebral me.  The one who never shuts up.  The one who pissed off everyone in high school debates.  I, frankly, suck.  I think I have all the right answers, and dammit, if I'm spending the hours blowing this here piece of metal, I must be getting better.  But I don't have the answers.  Well, the "thinking I" doesn't have the answers.  We'll call that Self 1, in honor of Timothy Gallwey's "Inner Game of Tennis."  Self 1 is annoying and self-righteous and, on occasion, lazy.  But Self 2, the good intuitive version of myself that's patient and smart and trusting, is just too fricking quiet.  Speak up, Self 2!

And of course, Self 2 can't speak up cuz Self 1 has the microphone.  And is reluctant to share the stage.  Self 1 isn't without its good qualities.  I can analyze the opening of "Moby Dick" and memorize prepositions and keep track of my daunting email inbox because of Self 1.  And Self 1 isn't a bad listener.  It's just a Babelfish-level inept translator.  If a teacher or colleague or other wise soul tells me, "relax, you're trying too hard", Self 1 will read that as "Relax!  Right now!  No, NOW!  You're not relaxing!  If you don't relax, I'll mess everything else up for you so you'll never be able to relax...until you really relax." 
Writing this down makes me look crazy, but sadly, I have this sneaking suspicion this is most everyone.  From performance reviews at work to fashion magazines for teenage girls, people are mean to themselves.  Petty, vindictive, mean.  I'm not sure that's going to change anytime soon.  I just maybe need to forget about it.  Or rather, remember to forget about it.