Been feeling very out of sorts the last day or so – that uncertain, off-balance, I-don’t-fit-anywhere sort of feeling – for no good reason. Which typically means, of course, that there’s a very good reason that’s either being ignored or is just on the edge of consciousness, waiting for me to clue in. Still, life is being very, very good to me right now, so this came as a bit of a shock. But on the way home from seeing a dress rehearsal of American Shakespeare Center’s touring production of Cyrano, with Anna Marie as a thrilling Roxanne (Yes, I’m biased. Doesn’t mean I’m not right.), singing along quite loudly to as much musical theatre as I could find in the car (this is the first time since I lost it I actually miss my iPod), it suddenly occured to me that I wasn’t tense any more. And just as suddenly, I realized the three things missing from this good life of mine:
1. I need a plan. Then I need to stick with it. And it’s going to involve make some awful, upsetting choices, and I’m going to need to hope the people who love me will keep loving me when I have to throw life into chaos for a while.
2. I don’t play the piano nearly enough. Which tends to be caused by not being around a piano enough, which can be fixed by arranging my schedule to put me near one during more of my free time. What will be harder is actually playing the thing at those times, since there will usually be people around, which will force me to get over my Mr. Tanner complex and accept that sometimes, people will hear me make mistakes.
3. I want to get back on stage. Soon. Which is ridiculous, because there are so many things I do better. Some of them people will even pay me for. Still, though, I miss it while watching Othello rehearsals. I wanted to jump up on stage with the Cyrano folks today. It’s silly, it’s stupid, and I miss it.
Well, number 3 is going to take a bit of processing yet. But tonight, now that this has all found itself a semi-sensical form, I’m going to lie here and come up with a plan. Then, tomorrow morning, I’m going to get up and practice, and if there are people who might listen, I’ll accept that. After that? Well, hopefully it’s back to work, not with fear, but with grace and calm. Not transcended or transformed, but not this weekend’s stranger, either. There are changes to be made. And I start now.
August 30, 2006 at 1:27 pm
Steve, unfortunately I empathize too deeply with your pathological fear of being heard in an imperfect state. Proposal for you–I have a 76-key Yamaha Clavinova with two pedals and key action that will accept headphones (the old-fashioned kind with the large jack). You could borrow it while you’re there. You could practise at 3 am and no one would hear you. That’s what I used to do when I still lived in someone’s basement. I won’t miss it, trust me. My daughter leaves her violin and viola music all over it as storage. Let me know directly if you’d like to have it for a while. I could deliver it for the cost of a soda and a piece of pizza. Just a thought. Consider it an investment in someone’s future.
September 15, 2006 at 8:20 pm
thanks for the kind words about our “cyrano”— i’m trying to stave off my own overwhelmed feelings as we prep to leave in 48 hours…
hang in there. pianos are coming your way, i know it. and yes, we who love you can take all the chaos you can dish out