See, I can actually start an entry with that. Seriously, practice last night reminded me of something that I sometimes forget. I am a musician. Sounds pretty easy, but I don't think that it is. I write, but I don't consider myself a writer. I paint, but I certainly don't consider myself an artist. But I am a musician. If I was asked to describe myself, that would be one of the first things I would tell someone. Right up there with mother and wife. (Although this morning the stressed, glazed over look in my eyes would have tipped anyone off to the obvious two!)
But for some reason, sometimes I forget how lucky I am to fit into that category. Last night at rehearsal ("this one time at band camp") I stopped playing. I just stopped, stopped reading the notes, stopped complaining about the horrible chair that makes my back ache, stopped fidgeting with pitch and being frustrated about difficult passages and I just listened. There are nights when you get so wrapped up in the technical aspects of playing that you forget what you are involved in. KInd of like not seeing the forest through the trees, or in this case, not seeing the music through the woodwinds (ugh, that was a stretch!). But we were playing this symphonic march. Not the kind of rat-a-tat-tat, baton twirling, flag waving thing by Sousa, but an intense piece that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up and makes you lean forward on your seat, makes your heart pound and I actually had tears in my eyes. Yes, I know I am a geek, but this is something different.

ok, flashback......

When I was no more than seven years old I went to an assembly in my school. I remember lining up, girls in one line, boys in the other, carrying my little school chair to the all-purpose room. They lined us up in little rows like a miniature concert hall and brought out the Army Band. All the other kids were talking and playing and getting repeatedly shushed by our well-meaning but scary teacher, but I was mesmorized. I could feel every note of the bass line going right through me. It was electric. My hair stood up on the back of my neck, I had goosebumps on my arms and never once from that second forward, did I doubt that that was something that I was meant to do.

By the next year I was playing and have been playing ever since. And last night, I took a second to remember why. I remembered how lucky I am. I remembered that this isn't something that everyone has in their lives. I am fortunate enough to have a gift for playing. It is one of the only things that I can credit myself with doing well.

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