November 22, 2009: The Finish Line
Here I sit, my hands to the keyboard, my head bent down between my shoulders - just like Beethoven ready to begin the opening movement of the Moonlight Sonata. Right. I am bent down, eyes closed, fingertips tapping, trying to think what I am going to write about.
I had one of those "ah-ha" moments a couple of weeks ago. I fell backwards down a flight of stairs and cracked my hard head open, leaving a CSI-like puddle upon the carpet runner. I was not seriously injured, but I have been slow, lethargic and in some pain since shaking my brain vigorously like a mean martini. It is not like me to be lethargic, but since I was, I was forced to think instead of act. That was illuminating. (Literally. Because of the head injury, I was seeing flashes of lightning off to one side in dim rooms.)
With enforced rest, I began thinking of how I am always so goal oriented, always trying to prove myself both as a person, and a writer and composer. It suddenly dawned on me that I am really tired of that chase; just plain sick and tired of running. It is something that I have been doing since a tiny child. I think most performers start out by trying to get attention with their talent, and at some point, there has to be another motive come to the fore. Mine is two-fold: part is making lemonade out of lemons; all the past hard times ought to count for something, and secondly, I believe music makes the world a better place. But the rat race of getting performed, winning recognition, building audiences for your work, fund raising -- all of the necessary components really get to be too much sometimes.
I did the couch potato thing in front of Netflix, canceled my rehearsal (first time ever), and ruminated about how I really don't want to do this any more. It would be so much easier to just vegetate. But, when it really comes down to it, I can't do that. I go insane if I do not create. I may not be aware of what is causing my anxiety, but just as soon as I sit down to write or compose, I realize where that nagging feeling is coming from, and that is I haven't created anything original for quite awhile. If I am just creating, then I miss the interaction with other artists. Stopping does not seem to be an option unless I want to be committed to Bellevue or develop a love of Thorazine.
What I did realize is that I can let go of the finish line. I can just cease to compete and do what I do without worrying about the outcome. How very Zen of me, my critical voice chastened! I won't tell you what I replied! Everything in our society is about winning, about being the best, having the most, ad infinitum. However, what about the fact that I can just say "no." (It does work better for finish lines than sex.) This does not mean I do not have lengthy "to do" lists, or I give up on finishing projects. It just means ease up. It means quit listening to a cacophony of dictums and "if you don'ts" and pick out just one thing to get done. Sometimes that is a toss up. Today it is keep on correcting Act I of the orchestra score with enthusiasm - not just get through it. That is really no fun at all.
Rest assured, Ego, the universe could care less whether I finish first or last. It is only you that cares. So Ms. Ego, you run on ahead. I'll catch up to you later ... maybe. Have a nice day.
