On Fear, Fortitude, Freedom

In the spirit of conquering failure, I have devoted my weekend to my piano.  My rear-end is tired.  My hands are tired.  My mind and every inch of my body, is tired.  

But I am determined.

Boiling around in my head is the realization: I have to walk back in there on Tuesday.  What will they be thinking about me? What have they decided about me?  [What if they find me lacking, now, and always?]

And there is fear in me, in every tired inch of me.  

I have battled this fear my whole life--the simple truth is that, when it comes to playing the piano, I am a total headcase.  The question in my head, as I sit in rehearsals, as I get up on the stage, is "Can I do it?"  

Most of the time, I believe that I can't.  

Even though the truth is: I can. 

One of my favorite conductors looked at me in consternation one day as he stood in front of the choir, and said "Just PLAY."  And I knew what he meant--I was filtering every note through a film of terror, and he could hear it.  And it was getting in the way of the music, free and flowing.  Afraid of what I will find--that I am lacking, that I can't do it, I am not free.  To Just. Play.

It's an idol of perfection--I care too much.  And it's an idol of self, because if I can't do it...what does that mean about me?

The reason it feels so easy as I play my heart out by myself in my living room is because I'm just being me, no evaluative voices to be found.  Put me in a room full of people, and I'm wading through their thoughts between every note.

And listen--That just takes time and energy I don't have to spare.

But this fear has been my long companion.  It feels hopeless, it feels like I have no power to overcome it--it will suck me down, it will  be the one that wins.  

Because, guess what? It has won, time and time again.  

But this time, this time it is different.  This time I am weary of its game.  I am determined, in every tired inch.

It's diligence, isn't it?  It's commitment to the goal and fighting my way toward it, come hell or high water, come failure, come fear.  It's courage in the face of difficulty: It's fortitude.

Recently I woke up from a dream, where I saw myself being stretched between two stakes, holding on to each for dear life. They were stakes I'd placed in the ground--stakes to claim my territory.  But then, over time, I saw myself walking easily back and forth between those two stakes, lifting one and placing it just a bit further out than it had been, walking peacefully to the other, placing it just a bit further away as well.  The word in my head was: Fortitude.

When I'm being stretched thin, will I hold onto those stakes for dear life, until the ground between them becomes the place where the difficult things fall, and I walk among them easily? Expanding my territory?

At the end of the day --and in the early hours of the morning--it's a decision, to not allow fear to be the power that controls me, but to stand up, move forward, seeking the Power that calls me.  To walk straight through the fear, until I find myself in Freedom.

And so, as I prepare for battle on Tuesday [as I prepare for battle in every difficult place], I am determined:

Be present--in the moment.  You don't have time to evaluate each and every note and whether or not you can play it.

No matter what the difficulty is today, you just need to PLAY.