I Did It!

Our Sprint Toward the Holidays is now complete. Chris and I have worked extra-hard, burning the midnight oil (and the 1 AM oil and the 2 AM oil...) to make sure that this week before Christmas would be as relaxing and stress-free as possible. We had no less than four recitals in the past week. I've been up very late making presents. Chris has been up very late being my assistant and working on presents as well. We are so exhausted. Andrew is sick and Emma has been grumpy. We have short fuses and dark circles under our eyes.
But it's done.
All of my major publishing for the church where I work is done and yesterday was our final recital. It was The Big One - the recital where both of my kids performed and, well, I did too. I am a student after all!
The kids and I worked out some special arrangements of Christmas songs as solos for their instruments (I accompanied on piano) and I played my first piano recital in 16 years.
I was so. stinking. nervous.
I don't do well on stage. Don't get me wrong - I've had lots of practice being up there. I've been a worship leader, an actress, a singer, a pianist, a member of an orchestra and I even tried public speaking once. It doesn't seem to matter how many times I'm in front of an audience - I turn to quaking jello every time.
I remained un-decided about what to play until the last minute. I was really hoping to pull off the Chopin piece I'd been working on all semester, but it was just out of my reach. I had to cut myself some slack and remember that I've only been "back" at the piano for one semester. So I went for a Debussy piece instead. Honestly, the Chopin felt safer to me - more familiar. You can hide mistakes behind impressive runs and loud moments of drama. The Debussy piece was a lot more open - fewer notes, more obvious if you hit the wrong one, etc. But the major thing is that, to get Debussy right, you have to let your soul seep out through your fingers. You have to be vulnerable. In front of lots of people.
That's the heart of what makes me nervous.
I know I've talked about this before, but, in spite of appearances, I am actually a very guarded, very reserved person. I don't like to be vulnerable. I especially don't like to be vulnerable when something very personal about me might be criticized.

So:
Debussy. Nervous. Terrified. Stress.
No sleep.
Couldn't find Andrew's music.
Sick to my stomach.
Running on adrenaline fumes and coffee.
Hands quaking.
Potentially messing up in front of my students' parents - the ones who pay me to do what I love.

But I did it. I had to. I was on the programs they passed out at the door. I couldn't back out. This was something I really needed to do - for myself. I had some really deep demons I had to fight. I know that sounds really dramatic to most of you who have no problem with this sort of thing. I know. But I screwed up majorly the last time I played in front of people, 16 years ago. Maybe they didn't all know it, but I did. And I didn't play in front of anybody again. That sounds juvenile and silly, but it's true. There is certainly more to my story than that, but that is a big part of it.
I made a few mistakes and I wasn't able to put as much of myself on display in this music as I could when I was playing it with no audience, but overall, I'm proud that I did it and did it this well. I hope this will help my daughter begin to overcome her stage fright - she is, tragically, so much like me when it comes to sharing her gifts. And I hope that, with practice, I'll become more comfortable doing this sort of thing.

(video exists and will be posted if I can figure out why my new video camera's files are not happy about jumping onto YouTube)

One of the coolest things about the past couple of days, though, was watching my students perform. I was taken aback by how much I felt for them as I watched them overcome their own nerves and play for their parents and an audience too.
Guess what?
It turns out that I'm a music teacher.
I mean, I know I've been getting paid to teach music. I know I can do it. But there are lots of things I can do that don't necessarily define who I am - even musically. I love to play, but I am definitely not a performer (I don't get enough out of it to justify the damage to my nerves!). Music is as much a part of me as my own skin, but I've never been able to put my finger on what it is, exactly, that I do with music.
I got my first teacher present yesterday. One of my little guys, a funny little red-headed, freckled boy (who looks like a miniature Adam Savage and has completely stolen my heart) gave me a Christmas ornament - a snowman playing the piano. I almost cried.
That's when it hit me.
I'm a music teacher.
I didn't know before then.

Guess what else? I'm nearly sure that I'm going to be giving notice in the next week at my secretarial job. I will know for sure in a few days. I may have enough students next semester to take that leap. It will only be a partial notice - I'm going to offer them two days a week and continuing my publishing work for them (newsletters and bulletins), as I really want that income to save up for a big girl camera, but I'm prepared that my boss may not be willing to accept that. And if he doesn't, I'm out.
This is a big leap of faith for me - and especially my husband. Teaching piano means less income in the summer, means my pay can change from one semester to the next, means unsteady and unreliable income. I just need it to mean "enough" income. I know who my Provider is, and He and I have been working on this for a long while. But it also means spring break, fall break and holiday break with my kids. It means I don't have to hire someone to be their mom over the summer (you know my heart on that one, DeeDee!). It means getting paid to do something I love - and that's something.

Now. Now I'm ready to dig into Christmas. To knit like the wind, to pick up my camera again (it has lain dormant for nearly two weeks!) and to make merry.
I've been having a little trouble finding my Christmas Spirit this year. I think there's just been too much on my mind. But I'm feeling like a few cobwebs have been swept away and some space has been made in my heart. I did some hard work this past week. Now I'm ready for some fun.

A Door

My life's path has narrowed quite a bit these past few months, as I've previously (over)shared. We were having dinner with some friends last night and talking about, you know, The Big Stuff, and the way I put it was that, as things squeeze down on a person, you start looking for a door - an exit onto a new path. Everyone has those times in life and in the past, as those times have come my way, God has always

always

opened a door for me.
I think that what has been frustrating for me this time around is that nothing has opened. I have been desperately looking for that open door and have even decided I'd jump through a window if that's all that came my way. Metaphorically speaking, of course. I know some of you have been worried about me (as is evidenced by the arm pats and furrowed brows and how-are-you-doing-honeys). I'm not really going to jump out of a window.
Anyway.
So I have felt like I was fumbling around in the dark, with no inkling of what to do next - of how to make things better. And it's been a pretty long fumbling season.

But today, I think that door has finally opened up. My piano teacher called me.
She and her husband run the music studio where my kids take all their lessons and I love the philosophy of teaching and the welcoming environment that they provide for kids of all abilities and ages.
I had my first piano lesson last week and she called me today to offer me a few classes - not to take, but to teach! I would like to state, for the record, that when I hung up the phone, I bawled like a baby girl. I mean, I can't quit my day job or anything like that, and it will add an incredible amount of extra busy-ness to our already incredibly insane schedule, but I'm stickin' my foot through that open door so that it can't close back up.

And I'm so stinkin' excited about it!

Ouch

I talked to my new piano teacher this week. She is nearly as excited to get started with my lessons as I am! I guess my kids are so great, she can't wait to see if I'm the genetic source of that or something. We shall see.
I asked her what technique books she uses...you know, what I should be working on before we actually get started so that I'm not all creaky and rusty on the first day. And she told me to pull out my dear, old Hanon book of finger exercises and to be working on my scales.
Whoofda.
My forearms and finger muscles are screaming at me. They are asking why, at this advanced age, we are returning to the tortures of our youth. I keep telling them that this is good for them and that, once we brush the dust off our skills, we will make beautiful music again. It will all be worthwhile.
My hands and arms have begun to buy into my pep talk. They have been responding and finding strength in the repetition of scales and arpeggios.
But, as I said before, the piano and I have a tempestuous relationship. We are on-again, off-again. We have fought over who really is the boss. And today, as I made my reconciliation efforts toward it, it bit me.
The piano drew first blood.
It's war now.
I had to cut my fingernails pretty short - shorter than they have been in a long time. And somewhere around exercise #16 in that Hanon book, something pinched right at the corner where my fingernail meets the side of the nail bed. But I pushed through. And it bit harder. So I stopped in the middle of exercise #17 to have a look, and for the first time ever, I have bled for the sake music.
Mind you, it's tiny. Minuscule. I will knit tonight and not really feel pain.
Also, the piano should know by now that I bite back.

Daily Bliss: all four of us - hubby, me and both kiddos - filling the house with laughter and fun because we all have the day off!
Wake-up Playlist: Jason Mraz, I'm Yours

Tea & Knits

It's been a full day.
Emma had her Rock Band Camp concert this morning. She did so well. I have high hopes that her stage fright issues will be overcome with time. This was a nearly all-girl camp, so their band was called the Music Magicians. They played Twist & Shout, Surfin' USA and an original composition called My Life and they were all so cute. One of the instructors told my mom earlier this week that they'd never seen anything like Andrew...until they met Emma. I'm pretty much glowing with pride right now.
Lots of small projects are afoot here, including several summer dresses for Emma and myself that should be simple and breezy and ready for use by the end of July. There will be pictures as they roll out from under the needle.
And I have a few personal projects - some new directions I'm thinking of taking. If they come to pass, you'll be the first to know. One thing I've been considering is returning to the piano - she and I have something of an on-again, off-again, tempestuous relationship. But I've been thinking a lot about why I let it go when I was younger and why I haven't followed through on the handful of chances I've been offered to pick it back up. And maybe, I've been thinking, I owe it to myself to take one more stab at it, just for a little while, to see if I really was any good and to see if there's anything left in my fingers that's worth salvaging. My mom and dad have granted me six months of piano lessons as a birthday present, and when they told me about it, I cried. I am rather terrified to jump back in, though. This is something that I definitely want, so it is something that definitely brings out my preternatural fear of failure. Probably, there will be more to say on that later, once I get started or at least once it isn't late at night and I'm sleepy.

I attended knitting night tonight, which was hosted, for the first time ever, by someone other than me.



I don't mind hosting. In fact, I rather like it. But it was nice to have a break this time and just show up with my bag o'yarn + sticks and not even have to make the cookies. Consequently, Nephew Blankie is nearly done. I have high hopes that it will be finished tomorrow.




Daily Bliss: Dipping an Earl Grey Tea cookie into my Earl Grey Tea. A full-circle moment to be sure, at least in the life of that cookie.

Wake-up Playlist: Muse, Thoughts of a Dying Atheist (shaking my head over that one)