November 2009 Archives

The other day I walked past my piano and thought, "There's no time to play now, I've got important things to do."

When I was in my 20s, I'd play at least four times a week. It was a great way to unwind after a stressful day or gear up for an exciting date. Without notice, my habits slowly changed, and now I sit at the keyboard once a week at best.

If I stop to think about it, I really should be prioritizing playtime as something that needs to be done as much as laundry and eating and sleeping because a talent unused is a talent lost. Also, like the gurus advise, a few minutes of meditation each day can have a powerful impact on productivity and good health. I've never been any good at clearing my rambling mind of all thoughts, so I use my piano time as an alternate form of meditation.

I need to make this one of the important things that must be done instead of viewing it as luxury to be enjoyed after all the work is complete. What cherished activity do you deny yourself these days?

My teachers encouraged me because they said I had a quality that couldn't be taught: expression.  I might not get all the notes right, but I do play with emotion.

Imagine two musicians playing the same song with identical accuracy and speed. Both performances are entertaining, but one musician conveys the song's meaning, the reason it was written, the nuances of the lyrics, and the pain or joy that the composer felt. That musician will move you to feel the song and will make you  laugh, cry, dance, or sing along.  Imagine the other musician playing without emotion. He will deliver an adequate yet unsatisfying tune, and you might tap your foot at best.

Life-changing moments tend to measure everyone's emotional expression. During a recent funeral for the mother of a dear friend, the chaplain spoke about how important both laughter and tears are in life. Of the people I knew who attended that funeral, most experience laughter often in their lives, but I wondered how many ever allow themselves to experience the power of a good cry. Like an ocean tide removing the sand, crying slowly carries away the pain.

Today it is my own family that is in pain. This Friday we will bury my cherished mother-in-law, Joy Heil. In order to replay her life's song properly, we must allow ourselves to feel all the emotions, not choke them back. Only then can we properly celebrate her life and experience meaningful healing from her loss.

We never know which days in life will be happy and which will be sad, but no matter what happens, each one should be a passionate performance, and I intend to put my heart into every song.